Bluebirds
by readyset a go go
Summary: Jack was midway through the usual check-up when he felt it; a raised area of skin on the Venus mound of his left thumb, like a wedding band inserted under his skin. Warnings: mpreg and adult subjects concerning pregnancy. Angst. The word cariad will not be used under any circumstances.
1. Chapter 1

**Bluebirds**

_'But all the clocks in the city_  
_Began to whirr and chime;_  
_O' let not Time deceive you,_  
_You cannot conquer time'_

_-W.H. Auden, As I Walked Out One Evening_

000  
00  
0

Jack returned to reality, his subconscious surrendering control and allowing him safe passage back across the black waters of dreams he could not remember. He often woke violently from his dreams, his brain forcing him out and away from the from the grip of nightmares like an emergency eject button on a crashing aircraft. Tonight the return to his waking life was gentle. The air around him was soft and warm and the small space of his bed felt secure and familiar.

He let his hands drift up to his face, beginning the methodical inspection that had become a habit since his resurrection, a ritual that he repeated every day of all the years that followed. His fingers traced the bridge of his nose, moving to feel the texture of the skin of his cheeks before travelling across his hair line. As always, there was no change. Jack's palms continued to move down his neck and over his chest and shoulders, searching. In all the years of repeated inspection he had noticed almost no difference in his physical state. Small injuries resolved themselves quickly, larger ones in a matter of days depending on the circumstances. Some mornings Jack would think he felt a slight aging of the skin around his eyes and mouth, or would notice a single hair that looked a little lighter than the rest in the mirror. He wasn't sure that even these minute changes weren't a just a fiction, a lie invented to keep him sane when confronted with the disturbing stasis of his body.

He was midway through the usual check-up when he felt it; a raised area of skin on the Venus mound of his left thumb, like a wedding band inserted under his skin. Jack's eyes widened in the dark, the index finger of his right hand tracing the raised skin again and again before he sprang for the light switch.

Visual inspection confirmed it. The colour of his skin was un-altered, but the ring was faintly visible as he held his hand up in front of his eyes.

Jack shook his head, glancing around the room as if he expected to be suddenly somewhere else. A brief consultation of his wrist strap confirmed that it was still Thursday morning, just as expected. As if on cue, the strap beeped a short alert code, starling Jack out of his stupor. He tapped the panel of the strap reflexively, hoping it had malfunctioned. The wrist strap beeped again, the same sequence of tones ringing out defiantly. Sighing in disbelief, Jack silenced the alarm and lay back down.

"Wow."

000

Owen was reading a text message from Gwen and grinning to himself as he jogged down the med bay stairs, nearly colliding with Jack who was rummaging through the storage lockers, tearing the room apart.

"Watch it!" Owen shouted, trying not to spill his take-away coffee as Jack twisted out of the way, hands disappearing into his pockets.

"Have you seen my comms headset? I think I left it in here somewhere." Jack said, turning his back to Owen and continuing to rifle through the room.

"No. Why would it be in the cabinets?" Owen looked up from his phone to glance at Jack, irritated by the mounting evidence suggesting that he was the only sane member of the institute.

Jack shrugged and abandoned his search. "Let me know if you find it." He called over his shoulder as he left the room.

Owen narrowed his eyes as he stared after him, noticing the distinct noise of a shaking pill bottle, rattling in time with Jack's footsteps as he ran up the stairs. He took something, Owen thought to himself, making a half-hearted inspection of the contents of the cabinets that Jack had left open.

Despite being mainly used for autopsy, the Torchwood med bay had an intimidating and completely unsorted pharmacy of substances from the past, present, and future. When Owen saw a small glass bottle with a hand written label declaring the contents 'essence of mouse ear' sitting next to an overturned glowing vial marked with alien glyphs he sighed, abandoning all hope of being able to figure out what Jack might have taken by way of inventory or category.

Owen had been involved in a quiet battle of wills with Ianto over the sorting of these cabinets for over a year now. Owen's claims that they were archival materials and therefore Ianto's responsibility had been met with a complete lack of cooperation from the man whose job title should read Glorified Secretary in Owen's estimation. Last time Owen had revisited the issue, Ianto had said nothing in response, but had immediately begun to substitute Owen's coffee with instant in every round of hot drinks served to the team. The argument was currently a sleeping giant, largely situated under the title of 'not worth the fight'. As low as he might sit in Owen's esteem, he had to admit that Ianto Jones was one of the most stubborn men he had ever met, directing what little power he had for maximum impact.

Owen shook his head and shut the cabinet. He wasn't entirely sure he wanted to know what Jack was up to anyway- everyone at Torchwood was a little bit batshit in his opinion, and he often thought it was best to leave them to it. When a second cyberwoman -or whatever- sprang out of the archives and attacked everyone, _then_ would be time to intervene. In the meantime, Owen was making progress with a new singularity scalpel upgrade and had a lunch date lined up with Gwen, a date that he doubted would actually involve lunch. Owen smiled to himself as he re-read the text message. He didn't need any further distractions right now, things being as interesting as they were.

000

"See you tomorrow."

Jack waved goodbye to Gwen and Owen through the window of the meeting room and pretended to look busy. Tosh had already left, thanking Jack profusely for the early mark, dressed for going out and wobbling on the heels of last season's knee high boots. Jack hoped she would manage to pick up a human this time, rather than the aggressive aliens she seemed to draw to her like a magnet. He had told her she looked beautiful and sent her on her way, resisting the urge to tell her to 'be careful'.

"Are you sure you don't want help with those forms?" Ianto asked from the doorway, his jacket over his arm and car keys in hand.

"I could have a quick look before I go."

Jack shook his head and tried his best to sound normal.

"No, it won't take me long. We've all been working crazy hours; you should get out of here for a while."

Seeing Ianto hesitating, Jack got up and delivered a quick kiss to his temple and a lingering squeeze to his arse.

"I've missed you.' He said into Ianto's ear "We should break out that stop watch of yours again soon. First free moment next week?"

Ianto smiled and pulled Jack against him, close enough that he could feel Jack's heartbeat vibrating against his sternum. Startled, Ianto threaded his arm up between them and pressed his hand against Jack's chest.

"Are you alright?' he asked frowning as Jack's heart pounded against his palm.

"Yeah,' Jack said, quickly taking Ianto's hand off his chest. 'Just in a hurry to get this paperwork done. I'm a little tired- I might have an early night."

"Okay…' Ianto said uncertainly. 'Next week then."

"Make sure to wear that suit!" Jack called after him, letting the artifice drop and abandoning his paperwork as he heard the cog door close behind Ianto.

Everyone was gone. It was time to make a decision, and act on it as fast as possible before the team arrived back in the morning. He could feel the time leaking away as he moved quickly down the gantries to his office.

Jack considered the bottles he had assembled from the disused pharmacy, lining them up next to his revolver on the desk. He didn't have access to the 51st century treatment that he needed, but these three substances in combination might do the job- and the revolver would certainly would finish it if they failed.

_Or do nothing,_ Jack reminded himself of the unlikely third option, _just let this play out_.

He dragged his hands across his face, wishing for an interruption to relieve him of the requirement of decision making. He wished for a rift alarm, or an escaped weevil, anything to postpone the torment of responsibility.

The revolver would be quicker, but it would also be unpredictable. A shot to the head would bring a swift end to Jack's situation, but he might require medical intervention after he revived, and that kind of attention was something he wished to avoid at all costs. The drug cocktail may or may not work, but it would definitely make him sick. Possibly so sick that he would die; the same eventual result as the revolver. The drugs might work though, and if they did, no one would need to be burdened with the knowledge of what had taken place.

One day maybe he would tell someone. More probably, he would keep the experience locked inside himself, adding more weight to the over-balanced scale of guilt that he would never unload.

Drugs, Jack decided.

His hand was steady as he reached for the bottles, measuring out imprecise quantities of each and crushing them with his pen knife. This was the kind of cold decision-making that he was used to, but tonight he felt particularly detached. He couldn't see any alternative- the timing being what it was, with huge events just on the horizon and rift activity higher than ever. Jack sighed and scraped the powder into his hand. His wrist strap beeped its alarm again and he mashed at the buttons until it stopped. Licking the powder off his palm, he winced at the bitterness and slid the pill bottles into his desk drawer. Making his way down to his room, he waited.

_Next Chapter to follow shortly. Thanks for reading!_


	2. Chapter 2

****_An update a little earlier than planned. Another warning that some of this is graphic stuff, so please read with discretion. There may be minor spoilers across the first two seasons, leading into major spoilers for season three but those are a way off yet. _

**Bluebirds Chapter Two**

Ianto didn't want to think about why he had returned to the hub. He had left his phone on his desk in the archives and had told himself that he needed it right now; that it couldn't possibly wait until morning. The excuse sounded flimsy, even as he tried to convince himself that it was true. He had been lying awake for most of the night feeling that something wasn't right and no matter how many times he told himself that he was being ridiculous, the tactile memory of Jack's heart racing kept repeating across the palm of his hand.

At 3am Ianto finally gave in, pulling on his jeans and driving back to the hub.

Everything was quiet when he arrived, just the familiar hum of electricity and beeping of the rift monitor greeting him in the darkened hub. He made his way slowly down into the archives to retrieve his phone, shoving it in his pocket after checking for missed calls. There were none.

Ianto hadn't known precisely what he had expected to find when he returned. In his years of service at Torchwood 3 he had become accustomed to Jack's habit of withholding information from his team, often beyond the point of reason. Contrary to the opinions voiced by Owen and Gwen, Ianto often felt grateful for his limited knowledge, knowing that Jack was shielding them from trauma rather than simply micro-managing. Ianto knew that he was in fact one of the more informed members of the team. His minor level of intimacy with Jack granting him a small amount of insight into the mystery of Captain Jack Harkness that the others could not access, and perhaps this was the reason behind his greater respect for Jack's secrecy. His trust in Jack was so encompassing that it frightened him; a blind faith that he could not seem to shake, even when it went against his better judgement.

It was this loyalty that had drawn him back to the hub on nothing but an uncomfortable hunch that something unusual might be occurring. Trust and faith were one thing, but curiosity and agency were another entirely.

Ianto lingered back on the main floor, checking through the CCTV monitors, looking for Jack. He must be out, Ianto thought, or maybe he had really just gone to bed as he said he might despite his notoriously unusual sleep patterns. He stood outside the door to Jack's office, wishing he had the nerve to take a quick look down the hatch to see Jack safely in bed. They were intimate, he and Jack, but an unannounced visit at four in the morning was a bit advanced for their relationship, whatever that relationship was.

He was still standing frozen in the doorway when he heard a noise. Was it a groan, or just an echo of movement from the room below? When he looked back at the events of this night Ianto would be unable to recall exactly what it had sounded like, remembering only that it had scared the shit out of him.

Before he had time to analyse his actions, Ianto found himself in motion, racing into the office and down the ladder into Jack's bunker.

Jack was lying on the floor of his bathroom, a room so small that it prompted jokes about the 'mile high club' from Ianto every time he visited Jack's quarters.

Jack was wedged into the tiny space between the toilet and the shower cubicle, grey and motionless. Still acting on impulse, Ianto reached out to touch Jack's face, moving to feel his pulse. The skin under his fingers was cold and sweaty, the pulse weak and fast.

Ianto dug his phone out of his pocket.

"What?" Owen's voice was pissy and half-asleep.

"It's Ianto, I'm at the hub. There's something wrong with Jack- he's unconscious but he's breathing. Can you come?"

"On my way.' Owen's voice sounded small and tinny as Ianto struggled to keep his phone in place against his shoulder. 'Is he injured?"

"I don't know. There's some blood, but I can't tell where from.' Ianto slipped his hands inside Jack's shirt, feeling for a wound. He struggled against Jack's dead weight, his fingers searching.

"Don't bother looking,' Owen said. 'he would have healed already."

"He's been sick" Ianto added, finally noticing the vomit that Jack was lying in. As if in response, Jack's limp body convulsed and a strand of blood tinged drool leaked out of the corner of his mouth.

"Fuck! Hurry!"

"Are you safe? Is the hub secure?" Owen asked.

"Yes, I think so. I walked in half an hour ago – l left my phone - and I didn't see anyone. No alarms."

"Where are you now?"

"Jack's quarters."

"Okay. I'll be there in ten minutes. Roll him onto his side and then don't move him."

Ianto let the phone drop to the floor. He held Jack's head off the tiles with one hand, keeping the other on his pulse. He knew that if Jack died he would revive just as he had many times before, but he couldn't stop himself from counting Jack's heartbeats as he waited for Owen.

000

_Next chapter not far away. Thanks for reading!_


	3. Chapter 3

**Bluebirds Chapter 3**

"Wake up you prick."

Jack heard Owen's voice pitched low with anger and worry, and felt an impatient hand grip the back of his head, tilting him forward. An acrid smell irritated his nose and throat as he gasped in air. Jack opened his eyes and Owen slowly came into focus standing above him, an open jar labelled in his hand. Jack squinted at the bottle, reading the words 'aromatic spirits of ammonia' written in neat Victorian script on the yellowed paper label.

"You've been going through the cabinets." Jack's voice was hoarse.

"So have you, apparently.' Owen was seething. Words spilled out of his mouth with uncontrolled speed. 'What the fuck's going on Jack? I know you did this to yourself. I know those bottles came from the pharmacy, and what they do in that combination. I ran a scan. To say it cleared things up would be a joke, but what the hell were you thinking? However that thing got inside you, I could have gotten it out without _poisoning_ you."

Jack looked at Owen.

"Did it work?"

Owen looked back at him like he was crazy.

"No! Of course it didn't work- at least one of those drugs you took was 150 years old! You're still _implanted_ with something' Owen choked on the word. 'What happened? You scared the shit out of Ianto-"

Jack shook his head, lifting his hand to cover his mouth and finding it to be burdened with IV tubes. He gestured to Owen as best he could and vomited into the bowl that Owen hastily shoved over his chest.

Owen's voice softened a little as he took the bowl away and handed Jack a cup of water.

"You're okay. You'll be fine until we decide how to get this thing out of you- most of the chemicals have already left your system. I can't use the singularity scalpel on you until you're stable, but by then I might not have to- you were bleeding when Ianto found you.' Owen paused. 'Are you in danger from having this thing inside you? We can do this right away if we need to- the scalpels not the only option."

"It's not dangerous' Jack's voice was tired 'it's human, it's… normal."

Owen gave him another doubtful look. "It showed up as human on the scans, but it's obviously not normal.' He lowered his voice 'You were bleeding from what I would hesitate to classify as a vaginal opening. Is this news to you?"

Jack looked at Owen as directly as he could manage.

"News, yes. Front page story, no." He said.

Owen took a minute to wonder what exactly Jack meant by that, but moved on quickly.

"So you want to wait, or do this now?"

"It can wait."

"Okay.' Owen looked resigned. 'I don't need to worry that you're going to leave me in the dark about this for too long, do I?"

"You don't need to worry." Jack said mechanically.

Owen sighed, putting a hand on Jack's shoulder. 'I need to monitor you in case the _abortion_…' Owen struggled over the word, questioning the terminology that seemed so out of place. 'In case it completes in the next couple of hours. If it doesn't, we can talk tomorrow about how to proceed. Or you can just tell me -right now- what the fuck is going on so I can help you."

The lines in Jack's face hardened, transforming him from invalid to Captain in an instant.

"Don't push it." He said sternly.

Owen shrugged at the familiar rebuke and turned to gather his instruments, preparing to leave.

"Ianto's upstairs waiting to see you. Should I send him down, or..." .

Jack thought about the options and realised that the time for honesty had well and truly arrived.

"Yeah, send him down."

Jack sounded exhausted. Owen had heard desperation and weariness, even agony in Jack's voice before, but he had never heard him sound so drained of energy. Energy was something that Jack always had in abundance.

Owen inhaled deeply and summoned all the bedside manner he could as he turned back around to face Jack.

"You knew how sick those drugs would make you. You're not stupid, so you must have been desperate. It's true I'd rather wait, but I can get this thing out of you right now if you think you can take it."

"It can wait.' Jack repeated.

"I'm not going further than up the stairs. Call for me if you feel any pain or notice bleeding starting again. I'm serious Jack. I don't understand any of this right now, and you've made me worried."

Jack nodded but didn't apologise.

As soon as Owen left the room, he swung his legs over the side of the table and sat up, gathering the medical drape he had been covered with around his waist, wanting to avoid talking to Ianto flat on his back. He was immediately dizzy, gripping the edges of the table tightly and screwing his eyes shut as he struggled to regain his equilibrium. Pressing a hand to his stomach Jack searched his body for the cramping ache that he assumed would be there, hiding underneath the more immediate sensation of nausea but couldn't find it. In the space below his churning stomach there was nothing but a calm solidness deep inside. Whatever life was inside him, Jack felt certain that it wouldn't be leaving tonight.

"Jack."

He opened his eyes to see Ianto standing next to him, his posture stiff. In his hands he held a steaming bowl of water and washcloths, and a set of fresh trousers and one of Jack's white t-shirts were draped over his arm. Sitting on the bench behind him was a neatly folded blanket. He wondered at Ianto' s seemingly magical ability to conjure necessities out of thin air and remembered one of their first conversations: '_I could be your butler' _he'd said with desperation. Jack had scoffed, but in truth Ianto had become just that and so much more to the Institute in the years that followed.

Jack gratefully took the bowl and washcloth from Ianto, burying his face into the steaming cloth to hide his watering eyes and let out a long breath.

Ianto stood near, politely turning away as Jack wiped his face and chest, only moving to help disconnect the IV for a moment to allow him to put his shirt on.

Ianto didn't ask about Jack's health or what had happened to him, and Jack was familiar enough with the well-mannered stoicism of Ianto Jones to know that no inquiries would be made without invitation. Ianto's unflappable calm was often mistaken for coolness or snobbery - Owen was one of the more vocal critics, the irony that he himself was prickly and aloof at the best of times seemed to escape him completely - but the graceful poise that Ianto maintained at all times was one of the attributes that Jack most appreciated about him.

Once Jack was clean and wearing clothes, Ianto reached out hesitantly to touch him but fell short, his hand hovering in the air just above Jack's arm.

Jack caught Ianto's hand with his own and held it, drawing a shaky breath.

"I have to tell you something."

Ianto frowned.

"Should I get the team in?"

"No. It's personal."

Ianto's eyebrow twitched and Jack saw his eyes sweep over him, taking stock of Jack's physical condition. Jack saw him hesitate, and wondered if he looked as ill as he felt.

"Should it wait then? It's quite late and I've never imagined the autopsy bay as a setting for a personal conversation."

It was an excuse - Jack heard it clearly in Ianto's voice. He must look bad, for Ianto to be creating polite excuses for him. In truth, he didn't feel up to having the conversation that he was about to initiate, but Jack found his guilt urging him on, circulating like poison through his veins.

Jack shook his head. "I really don't think it can wait. I don't think you would want me to wait to tell you this."

Ianto shook his head back at him.

"If it's a serious a conversation we're going to have- and it does sounds serious- I think I would prefer you to look a little less dead when we have it."

He put a hand lightly on Jack's back, just between his shoulder blades, hoping that it felt strong and reassuring in the same way that Jack's hands had always felt to him. Jack's skin felt cold beneath his shirt and Ianto nearly drew away in surprise. Jack never felt cold.

The wall of control that Jack had been holding up inside himself began to crumble as he felt Ianto's sympathetic touch and Jack hated the feeling. He shifted on the table, his muscles beginning to bunch and tremble as he struggled for control.

Ianto's arms went immediately around Jack. He wasn't a naturally demonstrative man, and he shocked himself with the natural way that he moved into Jack's personal space. He stroked Jack's hair and squeezed and rubbed his shoulders quickly, anticipating the moment when Jack would swat him away with impatience, but the moment didn't come. Beginning to feel awkward within the prolonged gesture of sympathy that had drawn no reaction from his boss, Ianto stilled his hands, struggling to find something to say.

"You're cold." Ianto said finally, mumbling the words into Jack's hair. He disentangled himself for a moment to grab the blanket he had brought down with Jack's clothes and wrapped it around his shoulders. Jack was frozen in his arms, his eyes shut and his face unreadable. Not knowing what else to do, Ianto just held on tight, pressing his face against that back of Jack's shoulder and hoping that this was the right thing to do.

Ianto's arms were numb before Jack shook him off and slid down from the table.

"We're talking tomorrow." He said shortly.

Ianto nodded and wondered if he'd just suffered a brief hallucination as he watched Jack walk out of the room.

_New chapter not far- thanks for reading!_


	4. Chapter 4

_Again, a warning that adult topics are discussed in this chapter_

**Bluebirds Chapter 4**

"So what's the story?' Owen said, spreading his arms wide. 'I have questions, but you know that, so why don't you just tell me and spare us both the time?"

Owen sat in the only chair in the room, leaving Jack no other option than to sit on the edge of the autopsy table, his legs dangling off the side. The table still had the blanket on it that Ianto had brought him the night before, and Jack toyed with the edge of the wool as he spoke.

"I haven't been implanted with something. Well, maybe technically I have been. I'm pregnant."

Owen's arms were folded across his chest. Jack looked at him for a reaction, but got none.

"Would you like to comment on that?"

"Nope.' Owen said. 'Keep talking."

Jack sighed, trying to think of an explanation that was detailed enough to satisfy Owen, but quick enough that it wouldn't prolong the exam. The metal table was cold against his butt, and he shifted impatiently as he began to talk.

"Men from the 51st century can become capable of pregnancy with the assistance of a genetic modification implant.' He said.

'It's a pretty common procedure. It's actually so common that it's sometimes administered along with childhood vaccines. I think it was first developed to assist infertile couples but it really gained momentum during the Reproductive Equality Movement- lots of debate. Then there was this big thing about increasing population growth on colonial settlements. Anyway, the point is that I've got it, and it's apparently all still in working order, because here we are."

Owen stared at Jack for a long moment, holding his pen up against his lips. "You're seriously telling me you have a uterus?" he asked finally.

Jack nodded. "A uterus and eggs that can be fertilized. I would rather not go into the details of exactly how, but you can assume that it's similar to the usual."

Owen waved his hand "I would prefer that you don't elaborate. A real uterus, or an artificial one?"

"Real. The genetic modifier has some non-organic material included in the graft, but all the subsequent equipment is the real thing. Well, almost the real thing- women are still the original and the best when it comes to pregnancy. I might have a uterus and some hormones to go with it, but I don't have the skeletal structure or the fundamental body chemistry- it's still an artificial state."

Owen blinked slowly. "I feel like I need my hearing checked. There's no chance I've misunderstood and you're just in here asking for a band-aid or something?"

Jack's laughter was flat. "You heard right, and don't pretend you're not fascinated. Anyway, like I said- not perfect. The developers built a little indicator into the system so that men would be alerted if they became pregnant and seek medical assistance.' He held out his hand, showing Owen the ring at the base of his thumb 'I need your help."

"Yes, I assumed that after last night. What kind of help are we talking about, in reference to your situation specifically, I mean?"

Jack shrugged pointedly and did not elaborate further. Owen nodded, understanding.

"Well if that's the case then I don't imagine there's much point in delaying any further. Can you lie back please? I want to do another scan before we talk about options."

Jack lay back down, pulling up his shirt and unbuttoning his trousers as Owen prepped the scanner.

"You're being very quiet about this.' Jack told him 'I thought you'd have more to say."

"I don't care how it got there Jack,' he said, starring at the screen on the device 'I'm just the Medical Officer; my job is just to get it out. The details are interesting, but in the end that's just what they are- details."

He ran the device over Jack for a few seconds.

"Got it.' He said, starring at the screen. 'Still there. About 10 weeks I think. It looks viable, even after the shake you gave it last night."

Owen put down the scanner and continued a short physical exam that Jack did his best to tolerate, turning his head away and disconnecting from the impersonal prodding of Owen's fingers.

"Your blood pressure's a little low and you're temperature's up but it's not serious. You're doing well considering that you were vomiting blood last night."

Jack gave a short nod, buttoning his trousers back up.

"I can initiate a termination today. Singularity Scalpel, or suction aspiration if you think that's a possibility, upon your preference. I'll need time to gather the equipment or calibrate the scalpel."

Jack felt a sudden urge to vomit and pressed his lips together tightly. _No_, he told his insides sternly and felt the sickness fade. The nausea was specific and familiar, an echo of a past experience that Jack didn't feel ready to repeat.

"Jack." Owen prompted. Jack shook himself and looked up at Owen, startled out of his thoughts.

"We don't have to do this right away.' Owen told him. 'I don't know about your medical history and whether this is safe for you, but based on the scans I would say you have at least another couple of weeks before things start getting complicated… "

"Yeah, I think I'll take a little time.' He said. 'Thank you for doing this. And thank you for last night too. I didn't mean to involve you in this."

He slid off the table, relieved to be on his feet again.

"Jack, I'll help you in any way I can. You know that." Owen's words were rushed and mumbled but they were genuine, and Jack lay a hand affectionately on Owen's shoulder as he passed him on his way up the stairs.

He scanned the main the floor of the hub for Ianto, but couldn't see him. He was probably in the archives, Jack thought, knowing that Ianto often disappeared down there to file and order, particularly when stressed. He was hesitating, deciding whether he should go looking for Ianto when the buzzer sounded and Gwen appeared through the cog door, holding coffee and a bakery bag in her hands. Her appearance was surprising, despite being totally predictable according to the work schedule.

"Have you seen Ianto this morning? He asked her without pausing for pleasantries.

Gwen took in Jack's bare feet and undershirt and was about to make a joke about 'cheating at hide and seek' when she noticed how ragged he looked.

"No,' She said. 'I just got in. Everything alright?"

Jack nodded. "Yeah. Yes, everything's fine. Tell Ianto I want to see him if he turns up."

"Do you want me to page the archives?' Gwen asked 'He might be down there."

"No thanks."

Jack felt depleted. He took a few steps towards the lower levels before realising that he wasn't ready to see Ianto, let alone talk to him reasonably. Deciding to 'take some time' just as he told Owen that he would, he retreated to his quarters and collapsed face first onto his bed, groaning into the pillow.

000

Jack found Ianto in the archives much later that day, not at his desk but buried deep in one of the unsorted sub-sections of level five, a clipboard and scanner in his hand.

Sleeping through most of the day undisturbed, Jack had finally venturing out when the hub was quiet. Owen was probably around somewhere, Jack thought. It must have been Owen who had fed the rest of the team some excuse to keep them out of his hair all day. What he had said to them, Jack couldn't guess. He felt fine now, almost like the night before had never happened, making his current situation feel even more unreal. Jack heard the sound of his own heartbeat rushing in his ears as his blood pressure rose with anxiety, thinking of what was to come. Taking a deep breath, he stepped out of the dark hallway and into the light of the room.

"Wow, what are those?" Jack asked, casually holding out his hands for the collection of glowing objects that Ianto was cataloguing.

"I'm listing them as _embers that don't burn your hands but that set fire to most other things_." Ianto didn't quite look up from his clipboard.

"Other things like your paperwork?" he asked, noticing the scorch marks on the clipboard.

"Paperwork, suit jackets… most things, yes."

"They're pretty." He carefully sifted the embers back into the metal bowl they had been stored in and placed it back into the neatly labelled storage container.

"Hey,' Jack said softly, reaching out and turning Ianto to face him. 'Look at me."

"Okay." Ianto said, lifting his eyes from his clipboard to focus on a point behind Jack's shoulder.

"I found out yesterday that I'm pregnant." It sounded awkward, even to Jack who came from a time where that phrase was routinely said by men. He imagined what it must sound like to Ianto and cringed.

He searching Ianto's face, holding him tightly by the elbows and trying to place himself where Ianto couldn't avoid looking at him. Ianto blinked and held a hand up between them, shielding his face from Jack's.

"What?' His hand fell down to his side and he took a step back. 'Can you say that again please?"

"I'm pregnant." Jack answered shortly. 'Last night-"

"No, wait. I heard you.' Ianto cut him off. 'Are you still?' Jack watched as a look of painful realisation appeared on Ianto's face.  
"Is it _mine_?' He continued. 'Is that why- that's why you're telling me, isn't it?' Ianto's face flushed and paled in turns. 'How?"

Ianto Jones stumbling over words- possibly a sign that the world was ending, Jack thought grimly.

"Yes, I still am, and yes, it has to be yours.' He said slowly. 'I know this is a lot to absorb, but I need you to know that despite what you saw last night, I haven't decided what to do about this. I know I'm late in asking your opinion, but I'm asking now."

Ianto backed away and sat down heavily on a stack of boxes.  
"Tell me everything." He said.

Jack ran him through a condensed history of 51st century reproduction, slightly more detailed than the one he had recited for Owen.

"How did this even happen, Jack? We've nearly always been safe…" Ianto asked when Jack had finished.

"Yeah, _nearly_-" Jack began, running a hand through his hair.

Ianto bristled.  
"Well we would have been a hell of a lot safer if I had known this was a possibility!"

Jack sighed. "Honestly Ianto, I thought I was past it."

There was a small pause and Ianto looked blank.

"As in too old." Jack elaborated.

"But you don't age…"

Jack reached out to grab Ianto's arm once more, holding on tight.

"I do age, at least I think I do. It's just very slow. Look at me.' Jack said, trying to catch Ianto's sliding gaze with his, 'Really look. How old am I? My biological age, I mean. Forty? Forty-five? I don't really know any more. There's a shelf life on the patch and the one I had put in place is as old as I _really_ am, however old that is once you add up all the time. I should have told you, but I really never thought this was possible.'

Jack squeezed Ianto's arm urgently. 'This doesn't have to be your problem. You can walk away if you want- the distance is up to you. I should have come to you yesterday, but I thought I should spare you this, if I could. It felt right at the time, but now it definitely doesn't."

Ianto shook his head, blinking. He had never thought of Jack as being any particular age at all.

"I'm sorry." Ianto apologised, not knowing what for.

"Don't be."

They sat in silence, Ianto looking at his hands while Jack scrutinising his expression.

"Why?" Ianto asked finally.

Jack looked at him questioningly.

"Why did you do that? I can imagine how you might not talk to me, but… without talking to Owen? You said…' Ianto continued 'just before we met Gwen. You said you'd been pregnant before. Did something happen?"

Jack gave a half-hearted smile.

"You didn't seem surprised by that at the time. I didn't think you heard me."

"Yes, well, there's a limit to how many impossible things you can hear and see in one day and still give a good reaction to."

"I've always lived in hope that people listen to at least half of what I say out loud.' Jack's tone shifted, serious once more. 'I was pregnant before. I've had children. I loved them all, and I've hurt every single one, without exception in one way or another."

"Is that why you tried to…" Ianto couldn't say it. He felt suddenly trapped like a child with no agency, waiting to hear his fate be decided by others.

Jack gestured in the direction of the rift monitor several floors above them.

"The rift is active. Something's about to change and it's going to be big. The timing of this is just _wrong_. I-" Jack saw Ianto opening his mouth to speak and immediately broke off, wanting to hear him.

"I never thought about having children.' Ianto said hesitantly. 'I'm twenty-six. According to the average lifespan of operatives based on when I joined Torchwood I shouldn't live past 35, although I believe you're skewing the stats on that.' He added parenthetically. 'I talked about it with Lisa, but after Canary Wharf… This is your decision Jack." He finished dully.

"Yes, it is, but what do you want? You don't have to tell me now, but I need to know. I tried to take away your chance to tell me, and I shouldn't have. Things being as they are, I'm asking what you think."

"Do you feel differently now than you did last night?"

"Maybe. I don't know. I tried to poison it and it lived and I feel strange about that.' He admitted. 'I handled it badly. We're so ruthless with our problem solving here that sometimes…" He trailed off.

Another long silence fell. The archives were so quiet that Jack could hear their wristwatches ticking away the seconds, slighting out of time with each other.

"So you're thinking you might keep it?"

"Maybe.' Jack said carefully. 'How would you feel about that?"

Ianto paused before speaking. "What would be expected of me?"

"Nothing. Or everything. That would be your choice."

"Is it even possible?' Ianto asked. 'Without hurting you, I mean. You said you thought you were too old…"

"I don't know." Jack was about to say more, but stopped again as Ianto leaned forward to speak.

"-I don't think- I mean, I would never ask you not to terminate. I know you can't look after a child and the Rift at once and I don't know what I would do with a baby, but... are there other options?'

Jack pulled Ianto close against his chest, but Ianto was rigid in his arms. He shifted his grip on him, and after a moment of trying to melt the frozen body against him without success, Jack let him go.

"I'll talk to Owen and get the stats. We can talk about it more when we know what's possible and what isn't." He leaned his head down on Ianto's shoulder. 'Come up to bed with me?"

Ianto shook his head no as he turned away, picking up his paperwork.  
"I've got work to do. You go, I might come in later."

Jack nodded, knowing that he wouldn't.

000

_More soon- thanks for reading!_


	5. Chapter 5

_Hints of spoilers across season 1 and 2 as previously mentioned. Some potentially squiky stuff, but nothing graphic in this chapter._

**Bluebirds Chapter 5**

"It's a bit early, isn't it?" Owen muttered against the lid of his coffee.

Jack had bailed him up and dragged him into his office the second he had walked through the door. He sat down heavily in one of Jack's chairs and did a double take as he noticed Ianto in the shadows the room, standing as stiff and upright as the hatstand beside him.

"Oh, man. It's his, isn't it?" Owen rolled his eyes in a dramatic display of disgust. All tenuous efforts to be well mannered abandoned before the first coffee of the day.

"Pull your head in Owen. You're lucky I didn't drag you in here to talk about your report about the broken lab equipment."

"What's wrong with my report?" Owen asked, a little too quickly.

"Well, since you asked: under-sedated Weevil? Like I'd buy that? Anyway, Ianto just sent me Gwen's report- and it completely contradicts yours."

Owen glared at Ianto. Always Jack's lapdog, Owen thought. Jack's pregnant with his baby that he tried to abort using a multi-generational drug cocktail that nearly killed him _and_ _he's still filing reports_.

"I need you to give me a complete physical and scan set. I want to know if it's possible for me to carry this baby to term."

Owen jerked his eyes away from Ianto to look disbelievingly at Jack.

"Seriously?"

Jack nodded.

"I haven't decided yet, but yes. I want to know the options."

"Seriously?' Owen asked again in a slightly different tone. 'I have no experience with monitoring high risk pregnancies, not to mention a male pregnancy. Are you sure about this?"

Jack shot Owen a look. "No, I just told you I'm not. Just do your best- there aren't many 51st century obstetricians around here."

"Alright, I guess I'll just fake it…" Owen said and fumbled through his messenger bag for his notebook.

"is this your first pregnancy?" he asked Jack with mock sincerity.

"No. One other."

"Resulting in a live birth?"

"Yes." His tone was short; a warning not to pry.

"Any complications during that pregnancy?'

Jack looked uneasy. "Nothing too dramatic. Danger of hip dysplasia and I was put on oxygen during the last month- decreased lung capacity. Those are standard complications for men."

"Is there anything else I should know about male pregnancy? Seeing as there is so much reading material out there, the list must be short."

"It's high risk, but not uncommon when I'm from' he broke off '-Seriously Owen, should I just call Martha and ask her to do this? I would prefer not to, but if this is going to be problem-"

"No, no,' Owen held up his hands 'It's just a lot to process. I don't think it's a bad idea for Martha to consult if you decide to go through with this, but I'm your medic, alright?"

Jack breathed out, letting his irritation seep away.

"Okay. Like I said, it's not uncommon, but I'm a little concerned about the age of the graft- the non-organic material might have deteriorated, even though they're obviously still working. I'd also like you to calculate my biological age. Doctors don't recommend that men conceive past 35 years since we're not naturally equipped the way that women are."

Owen bit back some choice remarks regarding the 51st century version of viagra, deciding that antagonising Jack would only prolong the discussion. Without further comment, he stood and picked up his bag.

"Alright,' he sighed 'let's have another look then."

They made their way down to the lab, Ianto following five paces behind.

The exam was short and largely silent, rushed by the general discomfort of all three men.

Owen frowned as he put down the scanner.

"From bone density and muscle mass the scanner puts you in the 38 to 40 range. You really could have done this scan yourself if you were curious." Owen told him.

Jack shrugged. "It hasn't really been at the top of my list until recently."

Owen nodded.

"Women that conceive past 35 years have a higher risk of complications- chromosomal abnormalities, high blood pressure, premature delivery. We can scan for all of those, but from what I can see now everything looks good. It looks amazing, actually. You have the uterus of a 25 year old."

Jack smiled smugly. "Thanks- I work out."

"Which just leaves us with the awkward question of delivery.' Owen continued, ignoring him. 'You're a reasonably large man, meaning you have the pelvic width of a small woman, but the shapes still wrong. I assume this means a C-Section?"

"Ah,' Jack hesitated 'no, actually. I mean, it can if it has to. The graft will release hormones to soften the ligaments in my pelvis. It's unpleasant, but it works. I also have a kind of birth canal that will continue to develop if this goes ahead."

Owen shuddered, thinking of a time when he might need to examine Jack's 'kind of birth canal'.

"Alright, as keen as I am to have a look at that, I think it can wait. Medically speaking, and adjusting for this being totally abnormal by 21st century standards, I think it's reasonable to try to proceed if that's what you want. My personal opinion is that trying to do this would be crazy, but I can't see anything on the scans to back that up."

"Would you consent to monitoring the pregnancy if it were to continue, as uncomfortable as you with the idea?" Jack asked.

Owen shrugged. "I guess so, provided you would consent to heavy monitoring and assure me that I won't be held accountable for the outcome. I would do the same for Gwen or Tosh if they became pregnant."

"So that's a 'yes' based purely on equality?"

Owen gave another shrug. "Well, okay, yeah. I can't pretend it wouldn't be interesting."

"Thank you.' Jack said 'I'll get back to you."

Owen looked relieved, sensing he was about to be dismissed.

"I never thought I'd say this, but can I go feed the weevils now?"

Jack nodded and Owen made a dash for the stairs.

"Owen-"

"Yes?" Owen stopped midway up the flight of stairs.

"New reports from both you and Gwen by five o'clock."

Jack turned to Ianto who hadn't said a word during the whole exam. He was leaning against one of the benches of equipment, having abandoned his habitually formal posture at some point during the exam.

"Well, I guess it's possible. You said before that you didn't want a termination." Jack said carefully. "Should we talk about those other options?'

"You should do what you think is right." Ianto said neutrally, pushing himself upright and walking slowly out of the bay.

"Ianto." Jack called after him.

000

"I love you too."

Gwen snapped her phone shut, burying it as deeply into her jacket as the shallow pocket would allow. She hated lying to Rhys. New case, working late, be home as soon as possible- the story was always the same. The frustration in Rhys' voice never changed either, masked almost successfully by the patient generosity he always showed her.

Jack caught her eye from across the room, his face unreadable. He opened his mouth, but closed it again quickly as his attention was drawn across the room to the sound of Ianto dropping a folder on to Tosh's desk. He quickly looked back down as Ianto hurried away, picking up his screwdriver and prodding impatiently at the piece of equipment he had been adjusting all morning.

_Were they fighting?_ Gwen wondered. She had been waiting for something like this to happen since she first became aware that they were sleeping together- a situation that Rhys referred to as 'workplace incest' - but none of the mundane events that usually accompanied a relationship ever seemed to occur between them. Ianto was often at Jack's side, standing a little closer than he used to, but the unlikely union between the handsy-est man in the universe and the most insular man in Cardiff remained largely invisible. Well, almost invisible, Gwen reminded herself, thinking of the times that Jack would announce that he was 'going weevil hunting with Ianto' with an enthusiasm that betrayed his true agenda. Gwen imagined them entangled in the back of the SUV together, faces flushed from the excitement of the hunt as they pushed and gasped against each other.

Gwen blushed as Jack glanced up, thinking that he had caught her starring.

"What is it?" He said, not to Gwen, but to another member of the team, holding a hand up to the comms device on his ear. "Tosh- report."

Gwen stood, anticipating action.

"Weevil nest under the city centre library- Owen and Tosh- they're cornered." Jack said, throwing her the keys to the SUV.

Gwen grabbed her gun and headset and ran. She was at the door before she realised that Jack was not behind her. She turned around to look for him and saw him standing in the middle of the room, making no move to join her.

"I'm not coming with you. GO!"

Gwen was out the door instantly, propelled forward automatically by years of training that had conditioned her to respond instantly to any direct order.

It wasn't until much later that night as she lay in bed listening to Owen complain about the large Weevil bite on his shoulder, that Gwen thought to wonder why Jack had stayed behind.

000

_Update not far away. Thanks for reading!_


	6. Chapter 6

**Bluebirds Chapter 6**

It was a beautiful bright day in Cardiff, sunny with a cool snap in the air suggesting that autumn was not far away. The Torchwood team had been in and out all day, creating increasingly unconvincing excuses to escape the darkness of the hub for the freshness outside.

Under usual circumstances nothing would irritate Jack more than knowing that his team was off task, but today the general air of distraction suited him just fine.

Two weeks had passed since the revelation of his pregnancy and he felt sick; nauseated and irritated by everyone and every thing in the known universe.

Jack had seen Ianto precisely three times that day, catching him in the corner of his eye like a spectre as he disappeared through a doorway or darted past, nervously adjusting his tie. When Ianto had emailed the latest report summaries rather than hand delivering them as usual, Jack felt he might go insane from the endless cycle of avoidance that had been playing out across the last fortnight_. _

He knew he had been short tempered all week and perhaps this was part of the reason for Ianto's absence, in addition to the obvious.

When Gwen had asked him if he was feeling alright at tea break, a question prompted by his uncharacteristic lack of appetite for sugared doughnuts, he had turned on her furiously, shouting that he was fine and to _back off_. Back off she did, quickly retreating back behind the barrier of her computer terminal, and Jack had immediately felt terrible. He had looked at her as she sat with her eyes carefully focused on her screens, and tried to draft an appropriate explanation for his outburst, one that would mix apologies and excuses artfully enough to lead her away from the truth. Several revisions later, Jack gave up, realising that he really didn't want to lie to Gwen. The feeling was so strong that Jack thought he might lose control completely if he tried.

Gwen's offhand comment had prompted a paranoid ten minute session of close inspection in the mirror, and Jack was shocked at his appearance. He was tired, he realised, identifying the physical sensation that he hadn't truly felt in decades. He looked it too. The lines on his face were more visible and his clothes felt heavy on his body, like they were dragging him down. Shedding his great coat reluctantly, Jack touching the wool with affection as he hung it on the coat stand. There had been a time not very long ago that Ianto would have been there next to him, his hand out-stretched to take his coat and hang it up with a casual familiarity that had formed between them. It had been slow to develop- so gradual that Jack had been unaware- a comfortable routine with shades of domesticity that were easy to miss, as overshadowed as they were by the frantic tension of their sexual encounters. He hadn't noticed the sweetness of what they might have, Jack thought as his fingers lingered on the wool, until it was missing.

Feeling more alone as each second passed, Jack decided that the time to make a final decision about his situation had well and truly arrived. He would give Ianto one more chance to state a preference, but would not allow the deceit to escalate any further. Hiding his condition was becoming impractical to say the least, and if there was one thing commonly known about pregnancy, regardless of gender or circumstance, it was that it tended to get worse.

He would call Ianto in to his office and do his best to jimmy a genuine response out of him, putting his ear to the complicated lock on Ianto's thoughts and listening as the pins shifted under his words. If he was careful enough the lock might spring open, but there were always the bolt-cutters to fall back on if the gentler option failed.

Temporarily relieved by his decision, Jack picked up some reports and made a half-hearted attempt at reading them. Realising that he had read the same sentence three times and still hadn't absorbed it, he dropped the papers in disgust. Maybe a sneaky nap was in order before calling Ianto in- no one seemed to be around to notice if he went missing for a hour. Rising from his chair, Jack noticed a glass of water sitting next to his hand that had not been there before and jerked himself upright as he heard quiet footsteps retreating from his office.

"Ianto!" he yelled as a short wave of dizziness subsided. The footsteps halted and a moment later Ianto appeared in the doorway, hunched and awkward. Ianto's submissive pose drove a spike of irrational anger through Jack. _Send him away_, he thought to himself, _if you can't look at him without getting angry then_ _this isn't the time_.

"What the hell-' Jack said, ignoring his better judgment and pointing at the glass '-is this?"

Ianto looked at the glass.

"That's a glass of water, sir."

Jack rubbed at his eyes, cringing at the 'Sir'. This wasn't off to a good start. Jack took a deep breath.

"Why?"

"Why is it a glass of water?' catching the warning of a major outburst behind Jack's expression, Ianto quickly added 'You look a little… dry, Sir."

"Have a seat Ianto, we need to talk about this."

Ianto folded his hands behind his back and looked up at the ceiling.

"Have a _seat_." Jack demanded, feeling too ratty to be sensitive, sinking back into his chair.

Ianto hurried across the room, reluctantly sliding into the chair across from Jack's desk. Jack paused as he chose his words, remembering his earlier resolution to be careful and attentive. _Fuck it_, he decided.

"I need your opinion about this."

Ianto didn't move for a long time. Finally he frowned and leaned forward a little in his chair.

"I still feel that it's for you to decide." he said quietly.

"You've been hiding from me for two weeks. I can't do this for another 28 with you running out of the room every time I walk through a door."

"So, you're doing this then?"

Jack ignored the question.

"You indicated that you weren't comfortable with a termination, but have you thought any further about the reality of that?"

Ianto inhaled to buy time, carefully choosing his words.

"Yes, I have."

"And?"

"Adoption?"

"Yeah right. The kid will have 51st century genetics. It'll end up in a lab somewhere being studied for abnormalities its whole life. Next you'll be suggesting that we drop it off on the church doorstep-"

"-So why are you even asking me about this?'

Ianto's voice was loud and direct, and he stared at Jack unflinchingly. Jack looked back, satisfied. _Bolt-cutters_, he thought. Finally a real reaction popping out from under the carefully maintained front.

'Why haven't you just terminated and slipped me some Retcon?' Ianto continued 'I don't know what I want, and I don't know what's possible, and I don't know that figuring any of this out will effect your decision- so just abort it if that's what you're planning to do, and stop pretending to consult me on this!"

Jack lifted his eyebrows, but didn't raise his voice in return.

"I wouldn't give you Retcon without your consent.' He said calmly. It was a lie and they both knew it. 'Not in this instance anyway."

"I wouldn't remember if you did, or if you ever have.' Ianto's voice slipped back down to a normal volume. 'Please Jack, just do it. I know you're going to and talking about it won't help."

The nausea returned and Jack squeezed his eyes shut against it, swearing under his breath.

"I have enough to deal with right now. Don't make me manage you as well." He said through clenched teeth.

When he opened his eyes again, Ianto was still there, blood gone from his face as if Jack had slapped him. Jack sighed.

"Since you decline to comment, I'll tell you now that I'm not going to terminate. I'm not sure what I'm going to do when it arrives, but I'll find a solution. Maybe I can raise it if the rift stays under control, or find it a home if it doesn't. I won't ask for your participation in any of this, but you're very welcome to be involved if you want to be."

Ianto's face was un-readable. "I really didn't see this coming. I really thought you wanted to-"

"I never _wanted_ to- not then and not now either.' Jack interrupted. 'The difference is that this time I'm not going to."

Ianto blinked. "Okay.' he said nodding slowly.

Jack felt the tension in his back and shoulders begin to relax. The conversation hadn't exactly been perfect, but there had been no tears or bloodshed, and that was something.

"I'm feeling a little off today, so I hope you'll excuse the bluntness. I need to tell Gwen and Tosh about this- it's getting awkward. Would you like me not to mention your genetic contribution to the situation?"

"No, it's only fair. Tell them if you feel you need to."

Jack nodded, softening a little. "I don't want this to become…' He trailed off. 'I hope that you'll feel we can talk about this."

"Okay.' Ianto said again, and then hesitantly 'Are you alright?"

"Don't.' Jack said pointing a finger at Ianto 'I'm fine."

Another long silence. Ianto opened his mouth and shut it again with a loud swallow. He stood up, brushing the creases from his waistcoat with two precise swipes of his hand. _Work to do_, Jack thought, watching Ianto compulsively straighten his tie.

"Owen and Gwen have sent in those revised reports you asked for about the lab equipment."

Jack shrugged his 'I don't care about that anymore' shrug.

"They match up this time."

"Good."

"I ah, clipped a bit of the CCTV footage of the lab out of the log for the time surrounding the damage to the equipment. I'll leave it here for you if you'd like to have a look. It's not important, but it's interesting." Ianto slid a thumb drive across the desk to Jack.

"Thank you, I'll look at it later."

Ianto nodded curtly and spun on his heel. He had barely stepped out of the office when Owen appeared standing over Jack's desk.

"You look like shit.' Owen told him 'Take these and then I suggest you go lie down."

Jack looked up at Owen, then at the two pills in his open hand, and then disbelievingly at the glass of water that Owen had placed in front of him, right next to the first.

000

_More soon! Thanks for reading!_


	7. Chapter 7

_Warning for some squiky stuff and potential spoilers up to season 2 just to be safe..._

**Bluebirds Chapter 7**

Jack woke to the sound of Owen's voice yelling his name down the hatch from his office. Lifting his head off the toilet floor, Jack remembered where he was and let his face smack back down on to the tiles in frustration. He had been there for hours, and the churning sensation in his stomach told him that he wouldn't be leaving any time soon.

"Jack! Answer me or I'm coming down there!"

Jack sat up, but the movement dislodged some part of his shaky equilibrium. His stomach screamed in protest, immediately ejecting whatever was left inside. Hearing Owen's footsteps on the ladder, he choked out the only thing that seemed appropriate from inside the toilet bowl.

"Fuck off!"

Jack twitched as he felt Owen touch his back and tried to swat him off with one hand, the rest of his body still prone. Owen caught his hand neatly, pulling him away from the toilet and attempting to take his pulse, but Jack pulled away groaning and retching and Owen retreated. Distracted by all out civil war that his body was waging against his digestive system, Jack was almost completely oblivious to the world outside himself, but sat up in alarm as the sound of Owen's med back hitting the floor beside him filtered through the chaos.

"Don't sedate me!" He gasped.

"Fine' Owen said, putting down the syringe 'but you have to let me look at you."

Jack's skin felt hot and dry under Owen's fingers, and the pulse in his neck raced.

"How long have you been vomiting?"

Jack reached out and Owen grabbed his hand and held it tightly.

"I don't know."

A paper cup was pressed to his lips and he drank, tasting salt and sugar. Electrolyte solution, Jack thought dimly as he choked, and vomited the liquid back up. Owen's hand were on him again, flashing a small torch up to Jack's face, his thumb pulling Jack's eye lids open as Jack began to shiver. He could feel Owen's concern coming off him in waves of adrenaline and it unnerved him. He had thought he was fine, miserable, but fine. Now he wasn't sure at all.

"You're dehydrated. Really, really dehydrated. I'm going to give you this- it's an antiemetic, not a sedative, alright?" Owen prepped a new syringe and paused, looking to Jack for permission.

Jack nodded and Owen pushed him down on his side, injecting into Jack's hip. Jack swore and moaned against the tiled floor, still retching as Owen continued to move above him pulling more items out of the med bag.

Jack didn't know how much time had passed before he lifted his head from the tiles and looked back at Owen sitting next to him holding an IV bag, its tube snaking down to Jack's arm.

Jack made a miserable noise and sank back down to the floor.

"I completely agree. That was really terrible. Let's try to avoid this in future.' Owen said flatly. 'You know, for a man who's been tortured and killed more times that can be counted, you're kind of being a pussy about this."

Jack glared at him. "Yeah well, if I had been given the option to decline before being tortured and killed, I would have taken it. I'm not used to this _specific_ type of torture."

'Get used to it. You're alright and your little parasite is fine too. You've always had a knack for the dramatic, but this is pretty much just severe morning sickness. C'mon, you should sleep but probably not on the floor."

Jack gave him a tired look and held out his hand for Owen to pull him up.

"I'm not really feeling that 'pregnancy glow' thing right now." He said as Owen dropped him roughly on the bed.

"Yeah?' Owen with half a smile. 'At least it's not been boring, right? Come check in later in the bay when you've had some sleep. We should do an ultrasound – make sure it hasn't multiplied or grown a tail or something."

000

"Well, your super-human immortal healing seems to be missing in action, but you're still looking pretty good considering.' Owen blinding Jack with his torch as he examined his eyes, 'It's kind of nice actually, seeing you heal in seconds always sort of creeped me out."

The lab table was cold and Jack was fidgeting, impatient to get this exam over with, wanting nothing more than to get back in to some real clothes again. He never felt as safe and powerful as he did when he was wrapped in his greatcoat, but right now Jack would have settled for getting his trousers back. Letting go the opportunity to tell Owen that he _always_ looked good, Jack just shrugged.

"Mortal baby..."

"Yeah, so no dying for the next six months, right?"

"I'll do my best."

"Okay,' said Owen, 'have you tried eating today?' Jack shook his head no. 'Try and see. I'll need to know if you can't keep water down at the least. Oh, and you've blown some blood vessels in your left eye from vomiting, so if you see yourself in the mirror don't worry- it'll clear up in a week or two."

"I've _what_? Does it look gross?" Jack's eyes went wide, displaying the bright red puddle that had blown out across his sclera.

Owen rolled his eyes.

"Don't worry.' He repeated 'You don't need to stay in bed if you don't want to, but take it easy. I've told Gwen and Tosh that you are having a medical issue related to an alien object and you'll be back in action tomorrow. When are you going to tell them? I can't believe you've managed to hide this as long as you have- Gwen's gonna loose it when she realises I knew and didn't tell her. They've both left for the evening, so let's get this started so I can go too.' Owen paused. 'Are we waiting for Ianto?" He added hesitantly.

Jack shook his head.

Owen moved the sensor over Jack's pelvis. The picture on the monitor was shockingly clear and detailed. Jack smiled at the tiny shape, discomfort and guilt disappearing, if only for a moment. He loved all his children, and this one was no exception.

"Martha sent over an upgraded machine. Cool, huh? It's better than our scanners, and it has great audio too." Owen adjusted a setting and the room was filled with the swishing sound of a fast heartbeat.

"Martha knows?"

"I didn't volunteer any information. I just told her it was important.'

The sound of the heartbeat continued and both men paused, listening in faint disbelief.

'Well, everything else looks good,' Owen said yawning. 'Been a long day and all- mind if we wrap this up?"

Jack held up a hand, still looking at the monitor.

"Yeah, in a minute…' he said 'Can you page the archives for me?"

Owen glanced over his shoulder at the ancient paging substation on the bench behind him. They hardly ever used it anymore, in favour of their blue-tooth comms system. Jack would sometimes take advantage of the old speakers mounted in every room and blast music through the hub, irrespective of the wishes of anyone trying to work after hours.

"Uh, yeah sure. Is Ianto down there? Do you want me to ask him to come up?"

"No,' Jack said, reaching for the volume adjustment on the ultrasound monitor 'just leave the mic open."

Owen passed the sensor to Jack to hold and leaned over to press the zone button on the substation, keeping his finger on the mic. They waited, listening to the amplified heartbeat echo across the tiles. Jack held his breath, imagining the sound bouncing through the darkness of the archives, finally reaching Ianto through the maze of paper and dust. After several minutes, Jack nodded and Owen let his hand drop away from the panel.

The sound of the heartbeat stopped as Jack removed the sensor and both men looked up at the quiet footsteps on the level above them. Ianto was standing on the top step looking back at them. Summoned from the archives by the sound, he had hurried toward its source. Now that he had arrived he wasn't sure what he planned to do or say.

Owen was the first to speak.

"Everything looks good.' He said as casually as he could. 'See you tomorrow." He packed up quickly, forgetting Jack's IV line in his haste to leave. Bag in hand, Owen realised that he would have to pass Ianto on his way up the stairs and wished that he could just disappear from the room. Privacy was obviously necessary and Owen had no wish to hear part of the conversation that he imagined was about to take place. Sliding past awkwardly, Owen raised a hand as if he was about to say something more but changed his mind and self-consciously patted Ianto on the arm instead.

When the sound of the cog door signalled that they were alone, Ianto walked down the stairs and sat down on the exam table next to Jack, watching as he wiped away the conductive gel and buttoned his shirt. They hadn't been this near to each other in weeks, and interpreting Ianto's proximity as a small offer of willingness, Jack shifted his body nearer until their shoulders touched.

"What's in there?" Ianto gestured to the IV.

"Just fluids."

"You're okay without it?"

Jack nodded, fumbling as he removed the line from his arm.

"Then let's go." Ianto nodded toward the stairs.

On the way to Jack's bunker, Ianto grabbed the legendary great coat off it's hook on the coat-stand where it hung, tossing it down the hatch ahead of them. Jack quickly followed him down the ladder and automatically undressed, laying down on his bed and waiting nervously, half expecting him to leave. He watched Ianto turn away and begin removed his waistcoat and shoes, lying down beside Jack in his shirt and trousers. Jack's skin radiated with fevered warmth, and Ianto felt a pang of guilt that he had waited so long to come to him.

Jack's face felt wet. His body relaxed, his weight settling into the mattress. He felt scratchy wool of his coat against his skin as Ianto pulled it over them. The weight and warmth of Ianto's body next to him seemed suddenly unreal and he fought an impulse to reach out and touch the other man's face.

He tried to stay still and calm on his side of the small bed, not wanted to assume any offers of intimacy or worse, accept pity.

Ianto rolled closer and when Jack felt Ianto's arm rest across his chest as he arranged himself for sleep, Jack gave in, turning his head in to Ianto's shoulder and breathing in the familiar smell of Ianto's skin. It felt good, better than anything had felt in years, and Jack felt himself fading out, unable to stay awake to savour the intimacy. Ianto kissed the top of Jack's head as he felt his breathing change, again feeling heat radiating against his lips. He burrowed down into the blankets and closed his eyes.

000

_Thanks for reading, and thanks to the people who have taken the time to review- it's so nice to read your comments! This story is around the half-way point now and I'm looking forward to uploading the rest. Next chapter not far away..._


	8. Chapter 8

**Bluebirds Chapter 8**

Ianto felt disoriented, waking in the darkness of Jack's room. The gentle rise and fall of the breathing body locked his was all-encompassing, wiping out any sense of location and time that might exist beyond it. Noises from the hub above slowly filtered in as he blinked in the darkness and remembered where he was and why.

It must be morning, he thought dimly.

Jack's arms were around him in an inescapable grip, his skin cool and faintly damp, a relief from the dry fever of the night before. Ianto had been in Jack's bed in the past, but had never woken up there. In fact, Jack's bed had always represented a particular kind of loss of control to Ianto, the final stop on a route of resistance. Once you were in Jack's bed you might as well surrender, Ianto thought, remembering all the times he had climbed the ladder out of the room carrying his clothes and stop watch, his cheeks flushed with self-consciousness.

The situation he found himself in now could not be more different. There was nothing sexual about the way that Jack held him; so tightly that Ianto could feel every secret sound and motion of the internal workings of Jack's body as if they were his own. He lay still, picturing the clockwork revolutions of heart and lungs and veins, all feeding down to the tiny life buried deep inside. The thought startled him. Hearing the sound of the cog door siren, Ianto shook himself, attempted to loosen Jack's arms from around his chest.

"Don't go." Jack said, relaxing his grip.

"I have to go to work." Ianto rolled over, reaching out and finding the soft hair of the back of Jack's head under his fingers.

"Don't go." Jack said again, his voice muffled by pillow.

"I have to." Ianto repeated, rolling off the bed, letting his fingers linger in Jack's hair as he stood up. He retrieved his clothes from the rung of the ladder and slipped into main floor without being seen by the others and combed his hair at his desk on the main level, setting up the coffee machine on the way back. With a little luck the team might assume he had come in early, rather than suspect that he had slept the night in Jack's bed.

When he returned Jack was exactly as he had left him, his face still buried in his pillow. Ianto gently urged Jack out of the bedding, holding a paper cup of water in front of his eyes.

"Drink this. Owen will kill me if he has to put you back on IV."

Jack drank, covering Ianto's hand with his own around the cup.

"Thank you."

"How are you feeling?"

"Sick.'

"Here.' Ianto fumbled in his pocket and produced a small packet of crackers, the kind found in diners and kid's lunch boxes. 'My sister Rhiannon went through hundreds of these when she was pregnant with David."

Jack looked unconvinced, but took a suspicious bite of the dry cracker. When he didn't immediately vomit, he ate some more, grimacing at the sandy texture.

"Where did these come from?"

"Hm?" Ianto looked up from putting the final touches on his full-windsor.

"Where did you get these? You don't usually have a supply of pre-packaged crackers in your pockets, do you?"

"Oh.' Ianto said. 'No. I lifted them out of Gwen's desk. She has loads of them- she takes them from that soup place down the road. I remembered when I was coming back from the coffee machine."

"Why does Gwen…" Jack didn't finish his sentence. No one knew why Gwen did most of the things that Gwen did.

"Okay then." Ianto said and turned on his heel before Jack could try to delay him any further.

Ianto hurried out of Jack's office, tugging at his waistcoat as he moved quickly across the main floor. Toshiko smiled at him from behind her console and lifted an eyebrow nodding her head up towards the coffee station.

"Gwen wants to talk to you.' she said in a tone that suggested that Gwen might actually want to yell at him rather than talk.

"I'm sure she does."

"She's just worried. We're all worried about Jack and we're starting to worry about you too."

Ianto tried to arrange his face into a reassuring smile.

"I'll bring down some coffee shortly."

Gwen was waiting for him in front of the machine looking aggressive.

"Uh, coffee Gwen?" he said weakly.

"Ianto Jones you must tell me what is going on right now.' She pointed a finger at him 'I know that you know. Owen too, and if one of you doesn't tell me right now I'm going straight to Jack whether he wants me to or not!"

Ianto had known this was coming, but wasn't sure what to say.

"He's alright.' Ianto said finally, not knowing if he believed what he was telling her 'Or he will be."

He gently elbowed her away from the machine and began making coffee. Gwen didn't leave, and Ianto could feel her staring at him. Moments later he turned and handed her a mug.

"Gwen, I can't talk to you about this. You'll have to wait for Jack."

Gwen turned her back on him and strode away, obviously irritated beyond words. By the time Ianto had made another cup for Tosh, he could hear Gwen's angry voice down in the bay. The clatter of surgical instruments hitting the floor shortly followed, accompanied by a yelp from Owen. Ianto cringed. Once Gwen had made up her mind that something was hidden, there was nothing that would prevent her from digging until she hit the truth; especially where Jack was involved.

Jack emerged from the hatch around ten, showered and immaculate. He felt better, good even. The strange shakiness of the night before had faded with his fever and he felt in control once more. As he crossed the upper gantry on the way to the meeting room, he looked down to see Gwen looking straight back up at him from behind her desk. It was a death glare that she was giving him, one that Jack knew well. He smiled and waved at her, but her expression didn't change. That was going to be one hell of a conversation, he thought to himself, smile still on his face. _Later,_ he mouthed at Gwen, pointing at his watch in illustration.

Ianto walked in carrying the morning reports, dropping them on the desk.

"For Christ' sake Jack, talk to her- _tell her_ before she kills someone. I bet she'll start with Owen, and we only have one medic."

Jack laughed, surprised at Ianto's bluntness.

"You're right, better get it over with. Wanna come? It's gonna be good..."

000

"Bloody-"

"Don't say it Gwen." Ianto pleaded.

"Bloody Torchwood!" she finished.

"He's right, that line is almost unusable now." Owen called from the corner of the room.

"This is amazing.' Toshiko said giving Ianto a hug that he tolerated uncomfortably. 'It's wonderful- I'm so happy for you both."

Owen rolled his eyes. "Don't be a sap Tosh."

Toshiko ignored him, running over to where Jack stood, arms crossed, watching the scene before him. Jack smiled as she hugged him, looking at Ianto across the room.

"Thank you." he said with relief.

000

_Thanks for reading! Next chapter not far away..._


	9. Chapter 9

Warning for Adult Content!

* * *

**Bluebirds Chapter 9**

_Classified August 18__th__ 1945/1967 Torchwood Operative 26443 new changes to storage of living fauna policy 25-b as previously referenced in global document NH20… _

Ianto leafed through the sheaf of papers without enthusiasm. A tall stack of yellowed documents teetered as he turned around in the small space between piles, and Ianto imagined it falling- imagined everything falling- crushing him beneath a landslide of manila folders and teletype paper. Someone would find his body 100 years from now, with Global Document NH20 still clutched in his hand. Actually, he thought, judging from the most recent shrine to bureaucracy exhumed from a coffin sized wooden crate buried under yet more paper, the mystery of the Lost Archivist of Torchwood 3 would likely remain a mystery forever.

Overwhelmed, Ianto let the paper fall out of his hand. He would drag Jack down here and make him look at the files, he thought, and ask for permission to burn them. Jack would be surprised but wouldn't care - he had suggested setting fire to the entire analogue file collection on several occasions. No, Ianto thought, correcting himself. Jack wouldn't care about the files, but the uncharacteristic request might make him worry. Ianto watched as a folder slid from the top of another pile, and made no effort to catch any of the papers they drifted past him on their way to the ground. Right now the risk seemed worth it.

Music filtered down the archive tunnels, just barely audible from the main floor and Ianto gingerly turned around in the tight space to listen. Judging from the 'hits of the 40's' big band jazz, it was Jack playing 78's over the PA again. It must be late, Ianto thought - It was easy to loose track of time in the windowless hub.

Following the sound of the music, Ianto grimaced as he emerged from the tunnels on to the main floor.

"You've been down in the archives all day. You're going to turn into Profunalti if you don't take a break!" Jack spun around in his chair, rolling away from his console as Ianto stumbled into the comparatively bright lighting of the main level.

In typical Captain Jack style, he didn't wait for Ianto to ask him what a Profunalti was.

"From the Pilgrim System. They're like giant moles. Well, not exactly giant, but much larger than you would expect, if it was moles you were expecting."

Wanting to avoid a lecture on the cultural history or worse, the sexual practices of the Profunalti, Ianto cut him off.

"- Since you brought it up, I have some archived files regarding the storage of intergalactic fauna that I'm considering incinerating. Do you want to look at them first?"

"Internal Policy documents?"

Ianto nodded.

Jack paused, squinting at him for a moment before he shrugged.

"Burn them."

With a final spin of his chair to punctuate his disregard for official policy, Jack jumped up and strode over to Ianto, gathering him up and dancing his tense body through the desks and monitors, into the middle of the room.

"What is this? Social hour in the bomb shelter?" Ianto asked him, trying to pull away.

Jack laughed and shrugged and held on tight. With a wink, Jack let loose his 1,000 watt smile and Ianto felt his cheeks flush with the reflected heat from it. A natural leader, Jack was a man who was happiest under pressure- usually wound tighter than Ianto's stopwatch- but right now he was warm and relaxed, laughing as he tried to persuade Ianto to dance. He was_ charming_, Ianto thought with alarm. Flirting he could handle. It was a such a routine interaction between them that Ianto didn't even blink when he felt a quick pinch on the arse or a caught a whisper of obscenity in his ear during the work day. Suggestion he could handle, but a full dose of Captain's charm was something else. Right now, he felt like a single kind word could undo him completely.

Feeling Jack's thumb meandered down his cheek, he squeezed Jack's hand and looked away.

"Don't."

"Don't what?" Jack asked him, his hand resting on the small of Ianto's back.

"Don't work your… stuff on me."

Despite his protests, Ianto let himself lean in against Jack, melting against the familiar topography of chest and arms and shoulders.

"I'll come apart if you do." Ianto said, muffled against Jack's shirt.

"I think we could debate who's working who right now-" Jack's sentence was cut short as Ianto closed his lips over the words.

It had been weeks since he had felt Jack's body against his own, and Ianto was surprised by how strongly he reacted to it, his heart skipping as Jack pushed back against his mouth.

Jack's braces hung down at his sides and Ianto reached between them to tug up his shirt and slip his hand inside to feel the skin underneath. As his fingers brushed against Jack's belt he felt the swelling in Jack's abdomen; a small but startlingly solid lump against the back of his hand.

Ianto pulled his hand away quickly, looking up in shock.

Jacks eyes were closed and Ianto caught a glimpse of teeth as his mouth opened, gasping out noises that made Ianto's head spin as he felt Jack force his leg between his.

He couldn't move.

Through the confusion of attention he felt Jack begin to hold back, acknowledging Ianto's hesitation. The frantic scrambling of legs and arms and hands slowed until they finally paused in a breathless tableau.

Jack was tense against him, waiting.

Two deep breaths did nothing to clear his mind. Instead of air it was Jack he was breathing in, an atmosphere so thick with the tiny particles of the scent and taste of him that Ianto felt he might drown.

Jack's erection pressed against his hip, the sensation triggered a spike of arousal that muddled Ianto's thoughts even further. With a sigh that did not quite signal defeat, Jack changed tactics, drawing Ianto gently closer and carefully placing a line of soft kisses along his jaw-line. The movement shifted the unyielding lump of baby into full contact with Ianto, pressed up between their bodies like a tiny river stone caught in a dam.

The alien sensation against his stomach knocked something loose inside his brain and reality plummeted back at Ianto. He forced Jack's hips away, taking advantage of the short period of confusion that followed to re-arrange them into a chaste slow dance, away from the urgency of sex. Jack blinked, but didn't protest, continuing the swaying motion that was now slightly out of time with the music.

"Okay.' He breathed hard into Ianto's ear. 'Okay."

A moment later he added, "I thought this was what you wanted."

"It is. I think it is," Ianto said. 'but it's strange… I don't know what to think about it, or about us."

"I wish I could show you the 51st century. I could show you how strange this _isn't_. We don't need to define our relationship in order to love this baby, or find it a place in the world."

Ianto's eyes stung. Right now wanted nothing more than to define his relationship with Jack, but he knew they were separated by more than just time, and that time, and all the experience and pain that travelled alongside it, was an obstacle that could be impossible to overcome.

'_There'll be love and laughter and peace ever after'_ sang the voice on the record

'_Tomorrow when the world is free…'_

Jack lifted his head. "This probably isn't the right soundtrack for right now." He said, starting to move away.

"No, it's fine." Ianto said, holding him still.

'_There'll be bluebirds over the white cliffs of Dover, tomorrow just you wait and see…'_

Both men stood still until the record ended, popping and crackling the hopeful sentiments of another era across the space.

Just a moment ago Ianto's brain has been frozen, but now he couldn't stop thinking, his mind a mess of fears and problems both large and small, as unsorted as the files in the archives.

_Bluebirds had never flown over Dover_, he thought crazily as he stood in Jack's arms, and they never would- not being a native bird of Great Britain. Ianto shook his head, trying to clear away the trivia that must be the very least of his worries, concentrating instead on the feeling of Jack's fingers as they brushed over his own.

Just as the song had delivered hope to the British during the air raids of WWII, Ianto tried to take comfort in Jack's assurances that everything would be okay and tried his best to ignore the details.

000

Ianto was standing in what he had begun to think of as 'his station' leaning against the door of Jack's tiny bathroom beneath his office. He found himself here at least once a day, usually holding some kind of offering in his hands. Today it was an open packet of arrowroot biscuits and a mug of peppermint tea that he clutched to his chest in sympathy as he listened to the sounds of Jack vomiting in the other room.

"I can hear you thinking.' Jack said through the door.

"You can?" Ianto stuck a biscuit in his mouth and chewed.

"Yeah, I can. You're thinking 'Jack was so much more fun when he was allowed to leave the hub and didn't vomit all the time.'"

Ianto laughed despite himself. The door slid open and a ruffled Jack emerged, his hair sticking up in all directions and stinking of mouthwash.

"I know you, Ianto Jones. Whether you like it or not." He said, pointing a finger into Ianto's chest as he grabbed a biscuit from the packet.

Ianto pressed the packet into Jack's hands and sat down on the bed.

"What the hell are we doing?"

Jack sat down next to him and Ianto casually reached out a hand to re-shape Jack's hair.

Jack let a breath out through his cheeks.

"Yeah, it's crazy, but we'll figure it out. It's a work in progress in many ways."

Ianto's hands fell away from Jack's head and he straightened up, putting space back between their bodies.

_Work to do._

000

* * *

Thanks for reading! Next chapter on the way...


	10. Chapter 10

Warning: Spoilers for Children of Earth

**Bluebirds Chapter 10**

* * *

"I know, I do too." Jack promised to call again soon and waited until he heard the click of the line going dead before dropping the phone from his ear.

He had been sitting on a bench near the water waiting for Gwen when a memory had surprised him, popping to the surface of his thoughts like one of the buoys on the shoreline. A sudden and perfectly clear image of his daughter Alice - or Melissa as she had been then – running in the mud of low tide, years before the sea wall kept the water at a constant level. He had closed his eyes, letting himself remember the smell of the brackish water and the cold salt mist that teased Alice's hair into ringlets as she jumped her way from puddle to puddle along the docks.

She had been born with a surprising amount of dark curly hair. He remembered how it tickled his nose when he leaned down to smell the top of her head on the day she was born. They had spent hours, he and her mother, just watching her, amazed at her newness.

She had changed them both.

Jack shook himself, feeling his thoughts heading into dangerous territory.

When thinking of his past, Jack tried to stick to the safe shallow waters of the expansive ocean of his memories, knowing how easily he could get swept up under the tide of regret and loss if he waded out too far. _Swim between the flags_, Jack warned himself, trying to clear his head.

Despite his effort to stop them, the memories persisted. No sooner had the image of Alice faded then it was replaced by another; Alice's mother Lucia, screaming in fury as she ran up the steps from the med bay, scan results in her hand.

Lucia had announced her pregnancy to Jack by slapping him with enough force to loosen one of his teeth. He had smiled, picking her up and kissing her, suffering bites and scratches until she kissed back.

It had been a common ending to their frequent arguments.

Lucia had interested Jack immediately upon her arrival at Torchwood. On the surface they were alike; both exuding a warm charm that disguised a particular brand of ruthlessness, but where Jack was immaculate, Lucia was wild. The first to engage in any fight, her Italian scarves and miniskirts were often stained with the blood and dirt of close combat. A fashion plate covered in battle scars, Lu was enough of a paradox to send Jack's blood pressure soaring.

Their joyfully turbulent two year affair had led to an official amendment to Torchwood's in-hub weapon storage protocols, several pornographic incident reports, and finally, Alice.

Lu had been completely transformed by the birth of their daughter. Once a woman unapologetically addicted to risk, she began to withdraw under the responsibility of motherhood. She had refused to allow Alice in the hub, despite Jack's protests that it was the safest place in Cardiff. Her maternity leave stretched past one year and into two. Trying to coax her back, Jack brought home case files, the most interesting and irresistible he could find. He would try to hand them to her to read, but Alice was always in her arms.

The day came, just as Jack had worried it would, when she told him they were leaving. Lucia had pulled him aside after briefing one morning with her approved retirement papers and new identity details in her hand. Beneath her look of determination and sadness, Jack could see fear in her eyes and knew with sudden certainty that it was _him_, rather than the rift she was afraid of.

He hadn't protested.

They hadn't had Retcon in 1977- both a blessing and a curse, Jack thought.

Pulling himself free from the memory, Jack dug through his pockets to find the encrypted mobile phone that he kept just for Alice.

"I miss you." He told her, his heart sinking in the silence that followed.

He heard her sigh softly.

"I wish things were different, Dad." She said.

Jack put the phone back into his pocket and drew his coat closed, letting his hand brush against the swell of his stomach. It would be different this time, he promised himself.

He shifted on the bench, his hips aching under the pressure of his heft. The baby had grown into a solid and undeniable presence, impossible to ignore.

After months of hardly any physical evidence of his condition, Jack's midsection had drawn up high and round, requiring the unfastening of Jack's collared shirts and forcing his trousers to sit low in his hips. Ianto had let them out without comment, artfully re-stitched and folded on Jack's bed for him to find.

Passers by might think he had a tumour, Jack thought, if they noticed him at all, as preoccupied as they were with their own lives. No one outside of Torchwood would ever suspect the truth.

Like all situations that persist, Jack's pregnancy had become less shocking to the team as time passed, being viewed as the kind of oddity that was typical at Torchwood, rather than as a potential crisis. As Jack grew slower with weight and internal distraction, life at the hub kept pace with him, transforming into a steady grind with less of the typical urgency than he was used to. With Gwen taking lead on any field work and Ianto in a constant administrative flurry, Torchwood appeared to be chugging along without the usual full amount of his attention. This thought would have ordinarily disturbed Jack, whose management style bordered on obsessive, but for now at least he was at peace with the idea. Ianto continued to be distant, the result of work, worry or intimidation Jack wasn't sure. They had never had an especially communicative relationship, Jack reminded himself, he couldn't reasonably expect that to change immediately or perhaps at all.

"Hiya." Gwen said, dropping on to the bench beside him.

Jack's face lit up with a smile.

"How was it? Weevils?"

"Nah,' said Gwen, brushing dirt and some kind of slime off her jacket. She was rumpled but happy. 'Some weird guy with two heads and a lot of teeth trying to take out the coast guard. Owen's doing the autopsy now, but no one got hurt, just a few Retcons, that's all."

"Oh, is that all?" Jack laughed.

"Yep, just another day."

"Thank you." He said, taking her hand.

Gwen let her head fall on to his shoulder.

"It's okay Jack, I don't mind at all.' She paused, examining a large stain on her shirt. 'Torchwood's paying for the dry cleaning though?" She added, laughing.

"The least we can do." Jack nodded as he stretched, trying to ease the pressure on his back.

Gwen smiled sympathetically. "How are you?" She asked.

"Fine.' He said 'Huge."

She laughed again, holding out her hand and Jack parted his coat and placed his hand over Gwen's. She grinned as the baby flexed and shoved against her palm. Jack grimaced.

"Ow. For someone who only weighs two pounds, this kid can really dish it out.' Jack said wryly. 'A bit like his father in that respect." He added.

"And how is Ianto?"

Jack gave her hand a squeeze "I don't really know. Okay, I think."

They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes before Jack turned to Gwen and coughed politely, a smirk on his face.

"So, I saw some interesting archived CCTV footage the other day."

He let the remark hang in the air a moment before he raised an eyebrow at Gwen. Her eyes went wide and she punched him hard in the arm, gasping.

"Jack Harkness you did not! Tell me you didn't!"

He laughed loudly, ducking her slaps.

"I did! Very much so. The Case of the Broken Lab Equipment finally solved!' Jack gasped out as he laughed. 'Owen's got more stamina than I would have guessed. Nice butt too."

Gwen groaned. "You must think I'm terrible."

Jack shook his head. "You won't get judgment from me."

"I love Rhys. I do. Is it possible to love someone and be so awful?"

Jack listened to the sound of the water, feeling the wind beginning to pick up. Winter was coming.

"There are so many ways to love, and so many ways to damage. I've never been able to separate one from the other." He said simply, gripping Gwen's hand in his.

They talked some more, Gwen relating the details of a recent domestic incident that had somehow resulted in all of Rhys' work shirts being dyed pink in the wash.

"It probably suits him, he's got the skin tone for it." Jack commented.

"You know, I think it does!" Gwen said, laughing. A moment passed before she straightened up and looked at him.

"This suits you." she said, tentatively laying her hand back on Jack's stomach.

"I think you might be right." He replied, kissing her cheek before they stood, making their way back into the hub.

* * *

_Thanks for reading! Next chapter soon!_


	11. Chapter 11

**Bluebirds Chapter 11**

* * *

Somewhere a phone was ringing and in his bed Jack was sleeping, surrounded by the day's paperwork, pages escaping their bulldog clips and manila folders for the freedom of the floor. The sound of the phone travelled down the open hatchway and through layers of heavy wool and discarded paperwork, reaching Jack's ears and tickling him awake. Snuggled up in the pocket of warm air under his nest of blankets, Jack opened his eyes, slowly registering the sound as belonging to a telephone. On the fourth ring, he sat up quickly with the realisation that it was _his_ phone; the jittery bell of the old black Bakelite rattling the objects on his desk in the office above.

Looking at the short ladder, he sighed at the thought of pulling himself up it, dreading both the necessary movement and the thought of calling one of the team over to help him. The internal pressure was growing, just as he knew it would. Managing the constant negotiations between fetus and internal organs as they fought for internal real estate was becoming draining, bringing with it shortness of breath and fluctuating blood pressure that disrupted even the most simple routines. It was all painfully boring, but endurable and, Jack reminded himself often, temporary.

When he past the seventh month mark, Owen had tried to convince him to stay with Tosh, or at least set up a bed on the main floor- preferably somewhere with heating and without ladders, but Jack had declined. '_This is my home'_, he'd explained, gesturing to the little bed and small collection of personal items at the bottom of the ladder. In a rare moment of unchecked empathy, Owen had let the issue slide.

The ringing stopped abruptly and Owen's head appeared over the ladder.

"Getting a lot of work done down here, I see." Owen said, gesturing to the free-ranging papers.

Jack rolled his eyes. "I couldn't stay awake- I feel totally useless."

"You are,' Owen said, 'but we'll manage. If you feel tired, you should sleep. Simple. Martha's on the phone for you." He added.

"Simple." Jack said, moving to pull the blankets from his legs, pausing as Owen motioned him to stay put.

"I'll bring it down."

Jack looked at him suspiciously. "I'm not an invalid."

"No, but I don't want to drag your heavy arse up the ladder again, and besides-' he said, looking pointedly at the blankets '-I bet you're not wearing trousers under there, am I right? I see enough of you on the exam table as it is. "

He wasn't right, Jack thought, cringing as he remembered the track pants. Ianto had taken away his trousers for yet another round of tailoring and left a very unappealing substitute in their place. Jack had taken one look at the baggy grey fleece and elastic waistband and turned up his nose, but the cold that leaked through the concrete walls of his bunker had eventually won over his vanity. They had turned out to be warm and comfortable but despite these surprisingly positive qualities Jack still had no desire to showcase his new look.

"Okay. Bring it down." He said, pulling the blankets a little higher around his waist.

Moments later Owen returned, awkwardly descending the ladder with one of the cordless handsets and his medical bag.

"Multi-task?" He asked, holding up his blood-pressure cuff along with the phone.

Jack shrugged consent, taking the phone and offering up his free arm to Owen.

"Martha Jones, voice of a nightingale!" He greeted Martha. 'What do you mean- that line _never_ gets old. Yeah, we're all fine here- wait, _who_ did you say was asking?"

Owen fitted the cuff to his arm and began to inflate it, the soft _puff puff puff_ of air underscoring Martha's words.

"The Doctor?' Jack said with alarm. 'What did you tell him?"

The cuff was tightening with each puff of air, and Jack could feel the blood pounding in his artery, straining against the constriction.

"No, if Owen's been consulting with you then I can't blame you, but I would have hoped for a little more discretion…"

_puff puff puff_

Owen's eyes widened as he looked first at the astronomical reading on the blood pressure gage and then at Jack, who had covered his eyes with his hand.

"_Goddamn it_ Martha, what did he say?!"

Owen quickly unfastened the cuff and grabbed Jack by the shoulder. _Calm down_ he mouthed silently at him.

"No. No. It's okay. I'm sorry, you didn't do anything wrong.' Jack took a deep breath and shook off Owen's hand impatiently. 'Just tell him we're fine, okay? Don't let the guys over at Unit work you too hard."

Jack hung up the line and threw the handset at Owen.

"Fuck!" Owen swore as the phone hit him in the jaw.

"Why have you been consulting with Martha Jones without my consent?" Jack's voice was loud.

"Fuck.' Owen said again. 'I had to- I tried to be discrete, but I don't know what we're dealing with. I needed a second opinion. _You _needed a second opinion."

Jack slammed his hand into the wall. "That's not your decision to make. What the hell happened to doctor/patient confidentiality?"

"Calm down. You're going to give yourself a stroke.' Owen said, reaching for the pulse in his neck. Jack shoved him back 'What's the problem? We know Martha." Owen said, irritated.

"She told someone."

"Who?"

Jack ignored him.

"For fucks sake Owen, we're supposed to be a secret organisation- no wonder half of Cardiff knows who we are-"

Jack broke off, scrambling this hands through the blankets.

"Calm down.' Owen said again. 'What are you doing?"

"Looking for ammunition."

Owen almost laughed but stopped when he saw the look on Jack's face and ducked as Jack found a hardbound book on the nightstand.

"Enough." Ianto said quietly, appearing at the base of the ladder in time to pluck the book from Jack's hand. He was poised and calm, his face arranged in one of his perfectly cool expressions that under ordinary circumstances would have made Owen scowl. Right now, he was relieved to see him.

Without further comment Ianto tucked Hemmingway's _A Farewell to Arms_ safely away into the pocket of his jacket, easily balancing the steaming mug of tea that he held in his other hand.

"Oh thank god." Owen said under his breath. 'I never thought I'd be so pleased to see the Ice Queen."

Ianto looked at him thoughtfully and reached back into his pocket for the book.

"On second thought Jack, perhaps you'd like this back..."

Ianto looked at Jack, who's colour had faded from red to white and slid the book back into his pocket.

"Maybe you should finish… whatever this is another time." Ianto suggested quietly to Owen.

Owen looked doubtful. He reached out again to Jack, trying to take his pulse and Jack jerked away, pressing his hand to his eyes, lightheaded.

"I'll talk to you later." Jack said, his hand still covering his face.

Owen hesitated.

"Get out." Jack said.

"He's okay.' Ianto said. 'I'll stay with him."

Owen nodded and left.

Jack took a couple of deep breaths before he raised his head.

"How did you get down the ladder without spilling that?" He asked, gesturing to the cup in Ianto's hand.

Ianto looked the cup and shrugged, putting it down on the nearest surface.

No sooner had he done so then Jack's arms were around him, crushed in a desperate hug. A brief moment of surprise- the words _he needs me_ passing through his thoughts before Ianto found that his arms were around Jack, squeezing back hard in return. After several long seconds, a forceful kiss was pressed to Ianto's temple and Jack drew away, sitting down on the bunk with a thud. Ianto picked up the cup of tea as he sat down beside him.

"It's for you, if you want it. Peppermint."

"Thank you.' Jack nodded and took the cup but did not drink. 'I think,' he said slowly, 'that I might have upset a very good friend of mine."

Ianto raised his eyebrows. "Who?" he asked.

"My Doctor.' Jack said, letting the words hang in space.

'He wasn't thrilled about the whole 'fixed point in space and time' thing to say the least, and now this-' Jack gestured to his mid section. 'I don't think a male pregnancy 500 years outside of the time-line is going to go over very well."

Ianto frowned, a little lost. He knew very little about Jack's Doctor, and what knowledge he had was patchy and unclear. The way Jack talked about him suggested some kind of futuristic time-policeman who flew around enforcing a specific code of conduct through all of time and space. In a little box.

"You trust him though, don't you?' Ianto asked. 'You were so desperate to find him…"

Jack laughed a little bitterly. "It's not that I don't trust him- actually, that's sort of complicated- but the important question is, does he trust _me_?"

Ianto shook his head, still confused

"What does this mean? What are you thinking will happen now that he knows?"

Jack sighed and took Ianto's hand in his. "I have absolutely no idea.' Jack smiled weakly. "But I don't think we'll have to wait too long to find out."

"Not good, then."

"Not great."

"And nothing can be done?"

"No."

Ianto squeezed Jack's hand, looking down to where the baby lay safe, under the temporary protection of Jack's skin and bone. _He _trusted Jack, and if Jack thought there was nothing to do but wait, then he would wait alongside him, no matter what was on the horizon.

Watching him think in the space of a long silence, Ianto wished he knew how Jack truly felt about this pregnancy. He had flipped the blankets up to hide his unflattering track pants, but the bulge of his stomach sat up high and exposed above the sea of bedding, and this Ianto thought, must be a clue.

Pulling his hand away gently, Ianto cleared his throat.

"I can hear Owen wandering around up there." He said.

Jack shook himself.

"Owen!" He yelled, and a second later Owen's head appeared above the hatch.

"I'm sorry. This isn't your fault." Jack said stiffly.

Owen nodded.

"I'm okay- just dizzy- you should go back to work."

Owen nodded again. "Drink more water." He said, his face disappearing from view.

"_Go further than the next room."_ Jack called after him.

Owen's head reappeared. "Can I borrow that book? Things are a bit slow in the lab."

He grinned and ducked as Ianto threw it at him, the sound of his footsteps receding as he left the office.

Ianto smoothed his tie and jacket as he stood up from the bunk, shivering as he left the warm circle of Jack's body heat.

"You should get a radiator or something down here. It's cold."

Jack shrugged.

"I'll see if we have one lying around. Make you a fresh cup, sir?" He added, reaching for Jack's mug of now cold tea.

Jack grabbed Ianto's wrist, dragging him back onto the bunk.

"Let's drop the 'sir', okay? It's starting to get awkward if you know what I mean."

Ianto stiffened and relaxed as Jack pressed his hand against the baby.

"That's your kid in there."

"Wow." Ianto exhaled feeling the hard roundness beneath the fabric of Jack's t-shirt.

"Yeah, wow is right." Jack stretched and groaned, forcing the shape even higher against Ianto's palm.

Ianto experienced a moment of disassociation, feeling the body of the man who had once been -and maybe still was- his lover so transformed that it was almost unrecognisable under his fingers. He ducked his head, not wanting Jack to see the shock on his face, and caught a glimpse of Jack's bright blue underwear peaking out from the waistband of his track pants.

It was an instantly reassuring sight- a familiar landmark in a strange new world.

Ianto smiled as he remembered the first time he had seen Jack undressed, the layered wool and cotton of WWII stripped off to expose the latest style in brand-name briefs. '_What did you expect?' _Jack had asked, laughing. _'Standard issue Air Force underwear? Not a good look.'_

Curiosity overcame his hesitation and Ianto moved his hand over the cotton t-shirt, compelled to explore, unable to imagine how the odd shape fit within Jack's frame.

"Can I see?" He asked.

"Yeah, of course you can." Jack sat up quickly, pulling his shirt up over his head. The room was warm and Ianto breathed in Jack's scent, stronger than he remembered it, as it wafted into the air.

Ianto stared at Jack's body, at the compact, slightly pendant shaped dome that rose up under the more familiar dimensions of his shoulders and chest. The skin there was smooth and thin, with a few ghostly blue veins tracing the surface, barely visible in the poor light of the bunker. Ianto let his hand fall back down to feel warmth of Jack's skin, checking to make sure it was real. The image was so unlikely that it made his head spin.

"Wow.' he said again, looking up at Jack, 'Big."

"Hey! Don't even go there." Jack said with mock severity, but Ianto wasn't listening. His hand smoothed over the swell from top to bottom, up and down again and again with fascination.

Jack inhaled, finding the touch both soothing and electric. He hadn't been touched in months and the skin across his whole body hungered for it. He turned his head suddenly and kissed Ianto, groaning into his mouth, a sound somewhere between invitation and desperation. Ianto froze, and for a terrible moment Jack thought he would bolt, but he moaned back at Jack, hastily trying to remove his tie and shirt without breaking the contact. Jack put his hand up to Ianto's face, pulling away as Ianto protested.

"Can I see?" Jack echoed, running his hands up under Ianto's shirt, undoing buttons as he went. Ianto nodded and lay back on the bed as Jack undressed him. The possessor of some of the quickest moves in the history of sexual congress, Jack negotiated tie knots, buttons and zips in the blink of an eye; they were soon naked together for the first time in months. Sighing with pleasure, Jack looked down at Ianto's body resting beneath him, both familiar and new to him; sharp bones poking through his skin like markers on a map that Jack had often tried to memorize.

He'd lost some weight Jack observed, his eyes shifting up across the flat plains to Ianto's face. It too was thinner, his features framed a little more sharply than Jack remembered. His eyes were the same; clear and watery with the delicate blue that Jack often admired. He was as thin now as he had been when Jack first met him, his body reacting in anguish as he mourned for the life that had been blown apart along with Canary Warf. Jack hadn't known the full extent of the damage at the time, but had watched with approval as some extra pounds slowly gathered on to Ianto's frame as the months passed. Jack frowned at the depletion, worry leaking in to his expression.

"What is it?" Ianto shifted uncomfortably under Jack's scrutiny.

"I've missed you." Jack told him simply.

Later, as he listened to the thud of Ianto's heart pounding under his ear, he felt Ianto's body stiffen, preparing to leave. He pulled him closer and felt him sigh, a tiny puff of air leaving his lungs as his ribcage compressed under Jack's arms. He was too polite to leave, Jack thought guiltily as he felt Ianto's body relax once more against him. He should let him go, Jack thought, but couldn't bring himself to loosen his grip- hoping he was wrong.

* * *

_Thanks for reading! I've had a couple of reviews recently that really made me smile. Thank you so much to those readers- it makes a huge difference. Next chapter not to far away..._


	12. Chapter 12

**Bluebirds Part 12**

* * *

"If you stare at it long enough, it starts to look like one of those 3D Magic Eye puzzles" Owen said, holding one of the photographs of the stone tablet that had fallen out of the rift close to his face.

The meeting room table was a sea of photos and take-away containers, photocopies of glowing alien glyphs half hidden under serviettes and paper cups.

"Except there's no hidden picture.' Owen continued, dropping the photo back on the table. 'Maybe it's defective."

Gwen had found the tablet in the custody of a Weevil the night before, and despite the efforts of the entire team they were still no closer to identifying its origin or translating the glowing text inscribed on its face. They had stayed late at Jack's insistence, and both ideas and enthusiasm were running thin.

"It might be part of a set.' Toshiko suggested, looking at the photos of the lengthy inscription. 'Maybe we should archive it and wait to see if something similar shows up."

"Yes- brilliant.' Owen said enthusiastically. 'Ianto- give it a stupid name, stick in a drawer and let's go home."

Ianto stifled a yawn as he looked at his watch. "The Sleep-late Plate?"

Owen rolled his eyes. "The Fuck-knows Prose."

Ianto nodded. "I like it."

Rolling her eyes at them, Gwen reached over the cartons of take-away to look at the photo.

"Are these markings similar to the glyphs on that amulet we found last year?"

Ianto shook his head. "I thought so too, but I pulled it out of storage and it's not a good match…"

At the end of the table Jack was fidgeting in his chair, too distracted by the nagging pain in his hips to properly engage with either the conversation or his dinner. Feeling felt short of breath and nauseated, he shoved his food away only to see it gently rebound back towards him.

"You might feel better if you eat some of that." Owen told him, his voice low under the conversation of the others.

Jack wasn't in the mood.

"Make him eat it.' He said, gesturing at Ianto sitting behind his own uneaten dinner. 'Mother someone else for a change."

Owen sighed angrily, dropping his fork down on the table with a clatter that killed the general conversation.

"I can't take any more of this tonight.' He said, reaching for his jacket. 'I'll finish the chemical analysis tomorrow."

The general murmur of agreement from the table was drowned out by Jack's voice, harsh and booming in the small room.

"Sit down. We're not leaving until we figure this out."

Owen hesitated, but shrugged his jacket on over his shoulders.

"This isn't urgent- we don't have to analyse every piece of rubbish that falls out of the rift like it's the Rosetta Stone. I'm not staying."

Jack narrowed his eyes angrily at Owen and opened his mouth, rising from his chair for the eleventh time in ten minutes.

"Woah!" Gwen said loudly from across the table, holding up her hands. "Stop. Do not say whatever it is you are about to say, Jack. No one's leaving but I think we all need a break. Owen, take Jack down to the lab and do something about his back before hell breaks loose. Ianto, we could all use a coffee if you don't mind. Tosh, finish your dinner in peace. I'm going out for a bit of air."

Owen grabbed Jack and steered him out of the room before Jack could react, pulling him down the stairs to the bay and dumping him on the exam table. Jack popped back up as soon as Owen let go of his arm, intending to head back up the stairs to yell at Gwen for issuing orders, but Owen blocked his way, holding a hand up to his chest.

"You're obviously not feeling great. Tell me what's going on, then you can go and yell at who ever you want."

Jack didn't respond.

"Come on, I haven't finished my dinner and apparently it's going to be a long night.' Owen said impatiently. 'Which is it? Back or hips?"

Jack pictured himself running- a fast sprint through the doors of the tourist office and out into the rain, his coat swinging around his legs, body moving easily and without pain, his digestive system all his own.

He sighed.

"Both."

"Well, come over here then. And for fucks sake take off that coat so I can look at you. Shirt too." Owen examined Jack's back, measuring his hips with his hands.

"Your joints are loosening. That's good…"

Jack remained silent. He was having trouble focusing on Owen, feeling light-headed again. He reached a hand out and felt the tiles of the wall. The cold ceramic felt good under his palm and he suppressed an impulse to lean his whole body into the wall and let it cool his skin. Maybe he would indulge himself in this as soon as Owen left him alone, he thought.

Jack felt Owen's hands on him again, thumbs digging into the muscles of his lower back. The pressure made him swear and bend but brought relief and he pressed back against Owen, trying to ease the ache.

"This is kinda hot." He teased Owen half-heartedly, coughing as he ran out of breath.

The tiles of the wall seemed closer than they had a moment ago. Jack thought he heard Owen speaking, but couldn't make sense of his words, feeling a wave of prickling heat wash over his face accompanied by more dizziness. He felt the tiles against his face as he slid out of Owen's grasp. They felt so good. Jack didn't want to move, but knew he should.

"I can't breath." Jack felt his lips moving, slurring against the wall. Had he spoken? He must have, he thought, seeing a mask descended through his line of vision.

The mask covered his face and reality came rushing back like magic.

He was on the floor and Owen was holding him under the arms, trying to support his head while Tosh held the mask in place. Owen must have yelled for her, and Jack wondered if Ianto and Gwen were also nearby.

As the world pulled back into focus, Jack's first thoughts were not for himself. Knocking the mask off his face, he grabbed at Owen's shoulder as he lent over him with the scanner. Owen looked up at Jack's touch and nodded.

"She's okay." He said, pushing the mask back up to his face.

Jack closed his eyes. Ianto was above him somewhere, Jack could feel his hand against his face. He felt lonely, like a feather floating in a dark sky. Hands lifted him up into the air, and he let himself drift into the darkness.

000

Ianto couldn't reach the biscuits. He jumped and grabbed at the tin but only succeeded in pushing it further back on the high shelf where he had hidden it from Gwen. Looking around for something solid to stand on and finding nothing, Ianto leapt at the shelf again with no better luck.

He didn't really feel like eating, but his inability to get at the tin had elevated its importance. Feeling suddenly small and helpless, Ianto turned away from the shelf in frustration.

He had just returned from the med bay where he had been sitting by Jack as he slept. Owen had told him that Jack's blood pressure had dipped and that his lung capacity was reduced, although Owen told him this would ease as the ligaments in Jack's hips continued to soften, allowing the baby to drop away from his lungs. Owen had placed Jack on oxygen, taking care to explain that it was 'just temporary' and 'nothing to freak out about'.

He had helped Owen to drag the table against the wall, propping Jack semi-upright with as many pillows as the could locate to maximise the space in his chest cavity. When they had finished, Ianto sat beside him frozen and worried. He had wanted to reach out to Jack, smooth his hair and touch his face, maybe even sob into his shoulder while he waiting to feel the movement of their baby, but his whole body had felt awkward and locked. Not wanting Jack to wake up and see him paralysed with fear but totally unable to fight his inertia, Ianto had left his side.

Leaving the room hadn't really helped, he reflected as he turned back to stare at the out of reach biscuit tin. Finding himself once again lost and motionless, Ianto grabbed a tea towel and began to tidy up the small kitchen. While searching in the cabinets for the de-scaling liquid for the coffee machine, a cardboard box caught his eye, the words 'fuck off' neatly printed in black texta on the top. Offended by both the expression and the unfamiliar object in what Ianto viewed as _his_ kitchen, he pulled the box out on to the floor and opened the cardboard flaps.

Ianto shook his head when he saw what was inside.

The box contained a case of wine. Ianto pulled a bottle out, inspecting the label. It was a cheap shiraz cleanskin, a vintage so young that it promised to bludgeon anyone brave enough to drink it with a blunted double edge of foul taste and brutal hangover. Judging from the quality of the wine and the warning label, Ianto guessed that the box must belong to Owen; probably some kind of end-of-days provision stashed away in case circumstances ever required that he be quarantined inside the hub with no one but the rest of the team for company.

Ianto shut his eyes and sat down heavily next to the box, feeling the concrete walls of the hub looming over him. Owen had suggested he go home and get some sleep, repeating over and over that Jack would be fine before finally throwing up his hands in frustration and leaving him to it.

Ianto thought about his home- a sparsely furnished bedsit with nothing but his clothes, toiletries and a few books to indicated his presence there. The contents of the life he had shared with Lisa was boxed up in a storage unit in London, their photos, furniture and crockery all neatly labelled and locked away like the artefacts in the vaults.

His home now was Torchwood, the place where he kept his identity and sense of purpose. Sometimes he wondered if he temporarily ceased to exist when he stepped out of the cog door each night, only rematerialising when he unlocked the tourist information office in the morning. No, he didn't want to go to his flat, but Owen was right: staying wasn't doing him any good either. Fuck it, he thought as he pulled himself up off the floor.

"Is he really alright?" He asked, raising his voice so that Owen could hear him at his desk.

"Yes. Go home." Came the short response.

"I'm going down to the archives."

"Whatever…" Ianto ignored Owen's barely audible but prolonged muttering and looked back down to the box at his feet.

Deciding that possession was indeed nine-tenths of the law, Ianto grabbed a bottle, leaving the box open on the floor. Fuck it, Ianto thought again. Owen could yell at him later, if he could find him. The wine hidden under his jacket, Ianto headed for the tunnels, relieved to have found an activity that would doubtlessly keep him busy, if only for a few hours.

* * *

_Thanks for reading! Next Chapter coming soon - We're not going to sit in doom and gloom forever, but fluff really isn't on the cards for this one. Thank you again to the kind reviewers, you guys are great motivators!_


	13. Chapter 13

_Warning: sap (and spoilers for season one)._

* * *

**Bluebirds Chapter 13**

Jack woke up alone. The lights in the lab had been turned down to a glow and someone had cranked the heating up. A soft blanket covered him and he was almost drowning in pillows. They had tried to make him as comfortable as it was possible to be while lying on an autopsy table, he thought hazily.

Jack didn't move, concentrating inward. The baby was motionless inside him, and Jack felt a wave of panic. Reaching down he gave his side a firm push and was quickly rewarded with an angry shove back against his palm. Rudely awakened from sleep, the baby rolled over in a slow arc that made the blanket ripple like a ghost in the darkness. Jack let out a sigh. The baby was okay. _She_'s _okay_, Jack remembered Owen's words to him before he blacked out. Maybe he hadn't heard right, or it could have been just a slip of the tongue- Jack had never asked Owen about gender during weekly scans, and Owen, forever taciturn, hadn't volunteered to tell him. It hadn't seemed important, but now the knowledge brought a new layer of intimacy.

Thinking of intimacy, he wondered where Ianto was, where anyone was in fact. He must be okay if they had left him like this, he thought. Someone would be in the room with him if he wasn't.

Jack brought his hands up to his face, exploring the cannula that was dribbling oxygen into his nose. It tickled. Swinging his legs over the side of the table he put his feet on the ground and stood up experimentally, wincing at the pressure as the baby sank down into the awkward shape of his pelvis. She moved again inside him, pushing against the confines of his hips in protest, her limbs distending his skin with shocking clarity. He dimly remembered the sensation from his last pregnancy, so many years from now, but still marvelled at the weirdness of it all. She was real, and soon would be realer, but right now they were still one and Jack would decide where they went together, and at what pace.

The short flight of stairs took a long time to climb, dragging the oxygen tank that he was hesitant to shed, and Jack rested when he reached the top of them, pulling his blanket tighter around his shoulders.

"Back to bed." Owen said from his desk, his face illuminated only by his computer screens. Someone had turned down the lights in the whole goddamned hub, Jack thought.

"What's going on? Why is it dark?"

"It's 3:30 in the morning. Tosh and Gwen are asleep. Everyone's tired but no one would leave because they were worried about you. So back to bed." Owen whispered, pointing back down towards the bay.

Jack looked around and noticed Gwen and Tosh both asleep at their desks in the shadows of the room.

"Don't sedate me again without my permission. I'm so groggy I can barely think."

"I didn't sedate you. You're tired. " Owen said shortly, his eyes turning back to his computer screen.

"Where's Ianto?"

Owen sighed and looked back up at Jack.

"I left you down there connected to oxygen in the hope that you wouldn't get up, but you have. Your blood sugar bottomed out and your blood pressure dropped. It's not serious, but you're done for the day- you can barely walk. Don't tell me you're going to go wandering around the archives looking for Ianto. He's fine."

"What's he doing down there?" One step forward and ten back, Jack thought. Every time Ianto disappeared down into the archives he remained out of reach for a week.

"Filing. Putting post-it notes on things. Does it matter?" Owen shrugged 'You need to rest and you need to eat. Are you are going back to bed, or am I going to have to carry you down there?"

Jack laughed.

"Yeah right." Jack outweighed Owen by half at the best of times, but now with the added mass he felt absolutely immovable.

"I'm done Owen. You're right, I'm tired, but I won't be infantilised and I'm sure as hell not spending any more time lying on an autopsy table alone in the dark than is strictly necessary. I've had enough of that to last several lifetimes."

Jack reached up to remove the cannula but found his hand caught firmly by Owen. They struggled in an brief arm wrestle before Owen felt Jack begin to waver and let him go. Taking advantage of Owen's momentary hesitation, Jack flung the tubes to the floor.

They stood in a stalemate, Owen preventing Jack from moving with a hand to his chest as Jack swayed and coughed.

"Get out of my way." Even hoarse from gasping for breath, Jack's voice held authority.

Owen looked at Jack for a long moment before he sighed and turned away. Reaching into the desk drawer, he fished out a comms set and flung it at Jack who caught it neatly.

"Fine, Jack. Do whatever you want. You always do."

Jack smiled. He knew that Owen had meant to communicate nothing more than frustration with his words, but he felt empowered by them.

Owen reached into his desk again and handed him a protein bar.

"Keep those comms with you. If you so much as sneeze down there I want to know about it."

* * *

000

* * *

Ianto's desk in the archives was deserted. Unwilling to call out for him, Jack pulled up the CCTV monitoring system on the console. Cycling through the areas of the hub, he immediately noticed Owen bent over his own display on the main level, the camera images creating an endless mirror effect as they watched each other through the screens.

Jack touched his comms set "knock it off" he warned, and watched as Owen reluctantly switched off the feed.

Continuing his search, Jack flipped through the cameras until he located Ianto in the shooting range. A fine marksman who logged very few field hours, Ianto often spent time on the range practicing for the rare occasions when he was required to carry a gun. Jack could imagine that this was a time when an activity a little more stimulating than coffee-making might be required to blow off some steam.

Jack felt his body protest as he made his way through the tunnels and gantries that led down to the very lowest level of the hub. His hips burned with pressure and his breathing felt laboured but although the pain was constant, he found that it did not increase. He could handle this, he thought as he navigated the familiar path- a small price to pay for independence.

He found Ianto seated at a small table in the middle of the firing point, shirtsleeves rolled up above the elbow and a tumbler of wine in his hand. An open bottle sat on the table next to a ubiquitous stack of papers.

"_In vino veritas_?" Jack's voice echoed off the walls of the old tunnel, startling Ianto upright.

He looked up at Jack hazily.

"In wine there is truth,' he said, echoing Jack. 'truth like you wouldn't believe."

Jack found a chair sitting against one of the walls and pulled it over to the table, pausing to lift the bottle to his nose, smelling it with caution.

"Ugh, where did you find this? It smells like prison hooch."

"Well, you would know, wouldn't you?" Ianto said into his glass.

Jack had to stop himself from laughing at the petulant tone in Ianto's voice. Ianto was, at least on the surface, the most youthful of the team. Playful and loyal, and just a little socially awkward- a quality at odds with his careful grooming and cultured voice. Jack appreciated all of these traits, but had been pleased to uncover a few surprises underneath his mild exterior. Ianto's prickly temper, caustic humour and aggressive sex drive were just a few of the hidden treasures that excited Jack the most.

_What a brat_, Jack thought fondly, relieved to see the familiar spiky edge of Ianto's personality peeking out after so many months of restrained communication.

"Yeah, I know about prison hooch, but I never had to drink anything this bad. Bribing guards has always been a specialty of mine- I'm a _very_ good prisoner.'

Jack looked at Ianto who met his gaze unsteadily. 'How much have you had?"

"Just that."

"How did you get so drunk from half a bottle?"

Ianto put his head down on the table. "It's really bad wine." He whispered.

Jack chucked the half-full bottle over his shoulder in agreement, casually ignoring the smash as it landed.

Ianto looked up at the sound of breaking glass and watched as the wine seeped into the dirt floor.

"You didn't bring any guns down here, did you?" Jack asked, as Ianto continued to stare mournfully at the stain.

"No,' Ianto said, raising the tumbler to his mouth. 'only wine."

Jack sat down. "Okay, then tell me."

Ianto looked at him.

"The truth." Jack prompted.

Ianto pulled himself upright in his chair with some effort.

"You don't want me to ask, but are you okay?" Ianto's voice was apologetic.

"You're stalling."

Ianto held up his hands in protest. "It's relevant- I promise it is."

"In that case, I'm okay.' seeing Ianto's suspicious look he continued. 'I am, really. I don't feel great, but I'm okay."

"I just saw you blackout."

"Yes." Jack agreed.

"But you're telling me that you're okay."

"Yes.' Jack repeated. 'My blood pressure dipped and my blood sugar was a little low, so down I went, _but I'm okay_. Owen's upstairs, and I have comms, and I'm with you- I'm good here for a little while. When we're done talking I'll go back to bed, and I'm hoping you'll come with me. So..."

Jack paused, giving Ianto space to talk. When he didn't, Jack pointed to the papers on the table. They weren't the old typewritten files that made up the bulk of Torchwood's hard-copy catalogue- these pages were new, crisp and printed on bright white paper stock with the Torchwood watermark under the text.

"What are these?"

Ianto swallowed "It's my file. I printed it off the database."

Picking them up, Jack scanned the document that reduced Ianto Jones into a neat thirteen pages factual information.

"Lisa's missing. I mean, what happened to Lisa is missing." Ianto said quietly.

Jack hesitated.

"There's a report.' He said finally. 'It's classified- heavily encrypted, but I'll give you the access key if you need to read it."

"No.' Ianto said quickly, shaking his head. 'But why isn't it in my file?"

"It's not in your file because it doesn't need to be. Files are reductive- they don't record desperation or agony… or love."

"We could have died. I put the whole team in danger."

"Yes, but it's not that simple. That's why it's not in your file."

"I try not to give advice from my years of experience.' Jack continued. 'For one thing, it makes me sound old, and generally I think that people hate advice… but I want to tell you one thing: Forgiveness is beautiful. It's not always possible, but when it's real… when we forgive, and allow ourselves to be forgiven we're at our best, whether we know it or not."

They starred at each other a moment before Ianto ducked his head. When he looked back up, Jack could see redness flushing his pale skin as his eyes began to water.

"You're a good man Ianto and I want you with me,' He paused, 'but if that doesn't work for you right now, that's okay. We should talk about it, but we'll all be okay.' Jack said, lightly touching his middle. 'But if it's something else that's making you hide down here, we should talk about that too."

Getting no response, Jack reached out a hand to touch him, and the sympathetic gesture made Ianto crumble, his body contorting as he struggled for composure.

"Jack- I-' He said miserably. 'You're- _oh fuck_…' He broke off, dragging his hands over his face. 'You're about to find out what a maudlin drunk I am."

Jack shrugged and reached out again, this time catching Ianto's hand before he had a chance to pull it away.

"Then cue up some tiny violins, because you've got a free pass."

Ianto nodded, smiling weakly. He breathed in and out, trying to order the jumble of incomplete thoughts in his head into words. As Jack's thumb rubbed circles over the back of his hand Ianto drew another big breath and forced the words out his mouth.

"When Lisa died-' He began haltingly '-when she died my life shrunk. It got so narrow and small that I felt like one day I would just run out of space and that would be it.' Ianto stared down to where their hands met. 'I was just waiting for it to happen, for it to be over one way or another. Weevil bite, bullet wound or whatever… but I had this routine- archives, coffee, programming with Tosh… and you. Something to do before I hit the end. And then this baby- our baby- it widened everything out… this is ridiculous.' He broke off, blushing and trying to pull away.

Jack squeezed his hand.

"Keep going."

Ianto swallowed hard and took a deep breath.

"And I think of you. And the baby - a new person, a person who I already love literally _inside of you_, and I can't separate it from what I feel for you. It's terrible, not being able to control it. Not knowing."

Jack nodded.

"I care so much about you, I do, and I can't stop. I see you in pain and I..' Ianto continued haltingly, 'I- I have to stop talking before I say something so embarrassing that I'll have to Retcon myself."

Jack tried to smile and tried speak but couldn't manage either. Instead he opened his arms and let Ianto fall inside them. Warm tears fell, soaking through the cotton of his shirt and Jack didn't know whether they belonged to him or Ianto. The baby was a firm lump flanked by their bodies, moving restlessly in response to the distressed heartbeats of her parents, caught between them like a frightened bird. Jack felt the hard bone of Ianto's teeth pressed against his neck and knew he was sobbing, his pain soaking through the layers of clothing and skin and straight into Jack's bones, making them shake.

"I wish I could tell you what you need to hear." Jack said, through tears.

Ianto pulled away slowly and lifted his head, his irises even bluer against the redness of his eyes.

"I know.' He said.

Ianto looked into deep pool of Jack's ageless eyes and saw the murky bottom, the sediment of years of pain and regret drifting there.

"Ianto, I-"

"I know." Ianto cut him off. He reached up at kissed Jack softly. "I know."

Jack's comms set beeped, startling them both and Jack kicked up a cloud of dust from the dirt floor as he struggled to answer the call, making Ianto sneeze explosively as he picked up the line.

"No Owen,' Jack spoke into the mic. 'That wasn't me."

Jack looked so ruffled by the interruption that Ianto laughed. It was a real Ianto Jones laugh, sudden and just a little too loud, and Jack felt his anxiety melt away with the sound.

"I'm on the shooting range with Ianto' Jack glared at Ianto as he covered his mouth trying to muffle his laughter. 'No, he hasn't shot me. Yet."

Ianto laughed harder.

"Sorry.' He said as Jack ended the call. 'I'm a bit drunk."

"Ya'think?" Jack asked, smiling.

Ianto wiped his eyes, the tension broken. 'How mortified am I going to be when I remember this tomorrow?"

Jack pretended to consider.

"Probably a six out of ten," Jack said as he wiped his own tears from his face. 'but you'll feel better tomorrow. We all will. You and me, and the kid here; we all just need some sleep. Come on, let's go back up and try to chase off that hang-over. In wine there is truth, but _In aqua sanitas_- in water, there is health."

Ianto took the hand that Jack offered but paused before he stood.

"You and me?"

Jack nodded. "You and me.' He said firmly. 'If that's okay with you."

Ianto nodded once and stood to kiss Jack on the mouth, his teeth grazing against his lip as he pulled away, making Jack groan.

"I have some truth for you too, once we're in bed." Jack told him.

"Oh? Will it involve a Latin lesson?" Ianto asked, teasing him through the remnants of his tears.

Jack grinned, running a finger up Ianto's spine "If you want. My anatomical Latin is pretty good-" He broke off, coughing, making sure that his hand landed squarely on Ianto's arse as Ianto dove in to support him.

Laughing, Ianto pulled Jack's arm over his shoulder.

"You never stop, do you?" He asked as they began the long walk back to the main level.

"Nope. _Carpe diem_, baby."

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_Thanks for reading! Next chapter on the way..._


	14. Chapter 14

**Bluebirds Chapter 14**

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Ianto rolled over and caught Jack's hand, holding it still as it inched a ticklish path down past his navel, laughing and gasping as he felt the sweat begin to evaporate from his skin.

Jack's face above him beamed in the half light of the room, as bright and magnetic as a burning sun.

Ianto looked past him, observing the crumpled piles of his discarded clothing strewn around the room. It had happened again. The muffled silence breaking as Jack called to him, his voice and body shining like lamplight through the long shadows of anxiety. Just like he had countless times before, Ianto had flown to him like a moth, not caring if he got burned. He looked back up at Jack, putting a hand up to feel the glowing heat of his skin, knowing with certainty that he was the moth that fanned the flame, that Jack burned brightest for him.

Jack's fingers twitched under his, tickling and teasing the square inch of skin they had access to and Ianto tightened his grip.

"Please, no more!" he laughed. "I'll have to call in sick with mental deterioration if you keep that up."

"You'll have to spend the day in bed recovering.' Jack put his head down next to Ianto's. 'We're already in a bed so you won't even have to move."

Normally this kind of comment would have brought up the subject of _work to do_, followed by a swift exit, but Ianto smiled and pulled Jack's arm around him.

"Don't tempt me."

Ianto let his head rest on Jack's shoulder, putting his hand down to where the baby lay quietly.

"Sleeping?"

Jack nodded. "It's been a big day."

Ianto let his hand drift over Jack's skin, still mildly shocked at the solidity.

"What does it feel like?"

Jack frowned, thinking.

"It feels good. Full, and kind of raw, like you're missing a layer of skin.' He paused. 'And heavy and slow. And awkward."

Ianto laughed.

"You can't wait, can you?"

Jack smiled lopsidedly. "No.' he admitted. 'I'm ready."

He shifted uncomfortably and groaned, pulling a pillow from under his head and jamming it between his knees with a sigh, the pressure temporarily relieved.

"I'm _so_ ready."

Ianto's fingers drew slow circles over his skin, sending him closer to deep and natural sleep than he had been in a long time. He had forgotten how much _more_ everything felt in late pregnancy, and he thought wryly, how great the sex was. With Ianto's body wrapped around him and surrounded by warmth and the smell of Ianto's skin, Jack closed his eyes.

"Is it really a girl?"

"Hm?" Jack asked, beginning to drift. "Owen says it is."

"Haven't you see her? In the scans, I mean."

"No,' Jack said through a yawn. 'Not since the first ultrasound when she was tiny. I thought that the first time I see her should be, you know, the first time I see her. Owen has though. You can too if you want."

"No… I think that's right. I'll see her when we meet her." Ianto's voice was lazy and slow, muffled against Jack's chest.

"Will she be like you?" He asked.

"Thankfully immortality is not an inherited trait, if that's what you mean."

Ianto nodded, his face still pressed against Jack.

"She'll get your dimples instead. Dimples are superior to immortality."

"Well, maybe. You don't have them, so unless you're a passive carrier for the gene-"

"Alright Mendel,' Ianto said, tilting his head up to look at him. 'I'm going to make a cup of tea. Let me know when you've finished fiddling around with those peas."

Jack shrugged, eyes still closed. "I dated-"

"-You didn't date Gregor Mendel, the father of genetic science.' Ianto sat up and squinted accusingly at Jack. 'Gregor Mendel was a celibate monk."

Jack opened his eyes long enough to wink.

"You'd be surprised... No, I didn't, but I did date guy with a doctorate in classical genetics."

"Yes,' Ianto said slowly 'and now you're dating me- Junior Researcher by trade and tea boy by circumstance. Won't be a terribly impressive anecdote for the future, will it?"

"You're more than an anecdote."

"You say that, but your never ending catalogue of ex-lovers makes me doubt it."

Jack didn't argue, but kissed Ianto's head in reply, drawing him back down onto his chest.

"She'll have blue eyes, like both of us." Ianto continued.

"Probably"

"_Probably? _That's how it works- I remember the question on my Year 10 Biology exam very distinctly."

"There are exceptions to everything. You should know that Ianto, you're one of them."

000

"Wow, you really are contracting." Owen said pressing his hands to Jack's middle, feeling it change from skin to stone.

"Why do you sound so surprised?"

Owen shrugged. "Are they regular?"

Jack sighed. "Not yet. On and off for a couple of days now."

"Painful?"

Jack shook his head as Owen continued to prod.

"She's getting pretty big. I wish you would reconsider a C-Section. Just because you managed to manufacture a birth canal doesn't mean you have to use it."

Jack shook his head again. "We've already talked about this.' He said wearily. 'Babies born vaginally have better immune systems and mine is questionable. I don't know how well a 51st century immune system will set her up for 21st century germs, but I want to give her all I've got."

"You don't have a vagina, or if you do then it's missing all the best parts."

"Yeah, no kidding. Are we done here?" He asked, pulling his shirt down.

"No.' Owen said, stopping him. 'Speaking of things we've already talked about- your immune system profile has been collected on the scans. It's pretty weird, but I think it will do the job.' Owen lowered his voice. 'Don't pretend. I know there's something else going on. I haven't seen you buy any stuff for her- no clothes, no nappies, _no formula_. Stop worrying. There's always a chance something could go wrong, but everything's looking good- she's normal and healthy-'

Owen paused, watching Jack tense as his insides tightened again.

'-and obviously about to join us any day now." He finished.

Jack let go of the breath he'd been holding and nodded towards the cabinets.

"Drawer 4."

With a suspicious glance, Owen turned and pulled it out. Sitting neatly on the tray was a small collection of items sealed inside the clear plastic of a sterile medical bag. Inside were the essential items Owen had mentioned, along with an expensive looking lambs wool blanket with the torchwood insignia clumsily embroidered on the corner.

"From Gwen." Jack explained.

Owen held the bag up to his face, checking the label on the tins of formula. As he tilted the label upright the contents shifted and a small box rolled out, catching in the corner of the bag. It was old and weathered, the simple carved pattern that marked the lid almost invisible, worn down by years of handling. A few grains of sand stuck to insides of the plastic it was wrapped in.

Sand from Jack's home, wherever that was, Owen guessed with the intuition that he rarely paid attention to.

Jack was silent and Owen quickly slid the box back under the tin of formula, knowing he had uncovered something deeply personal.

"I think you must be the first parent in history to choose a mortuary drawer as a nesting place." He said lightly.

"Yeah, well we're a little low on storage around here. It didn't seem practical to hide it all down in the vaults."

Owen frowned, looking down at the bag.

"Why hide it at all? Because it would be too painful to see it if she doesn't make it? She's going to be fine Jack, there's no reason why not. I know you're worried but she's healthy. She's ready to be born. We could do a C-Section tomorrow- it won't be clean, but it will be quick and safe and -if your accelerated healing kicks back in- mostly painless. Let's just get it done."

"No. I can't be numb. If things go wrong you have my permission to do absolutely anything to keep her safe -and don't let Ianto try to stop you- but I want to feel this."

Owen grabbed his hand and Jack nearly pulled away in surprise.

"I can't tell you it's not possible, because it might be, but your pelvis is small. It's going to be hell." Owen's voice was almost pleading.

"I know. It was bad last time, but both me and the baby survived even though conditions weren't exactly optimum.' Jack gripped Owen's hand hard. 'This time should be easier, with you here."

Owen winced.

"You mean with a doctor? Jesus Jack, you weren't alone were you?"

Jack smiled weakly. "If you think I'm a stubborn pain in the arse now, count yourself lucky you didn't know me when I was 26."

"What happened to the baby?"

Jack was silent a long time, debating whether he wanted to answer.

"I'm not the same man I used to be.' He said finally.

Owen felt his brain begin to sort through the possibilities of exactly what Jack meant by that and stopped himself. It didn't matter.

He turned back to little bag and slid the drawer back into the wall, shutting the door with a soft click.

"You're going to need that stuff. We'll make sure of it."

000

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_Thanks for reading, especially after such a long wait (this story would go up so much faster if I didn't have a job)! _


	15. Chapter 15

_Hi again. A long time between updates, I know. I feel like I need to give a specific warning that this chapter (and the next) is particularly graphic. **If mpreg isn't your thing, or you get squicked out easily, don't read this**. For everyone else, I hope you like the chapter- there are still a few more on the way._

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**Bluebirds Chapter 15**

"Are you okay?" Toshiko asked, seeing Jack pause on his way to his office. Ducking behind his monitor Ianto cringed at the innocent question. All inquiries made into Jack's mental or physical wellbeing over the last week had been met with the kind terse responses usually reserved for Whitehall or the police.

Jack had declined his company last night saying that the camp bed was beginning to feel too small for the two of them. Under the floodlights of the main room Jack had looked shockingly ordinary, just a tired and uncomfortable man patiently waiting for the day to end.

Ianto had nodded, accepting a light kiss with a smile as he gathered his coat and keys. Regardless of circumstance, Jack was still the boss.

He held his breath waiting for Jack's response. When it came, it was soft and measured. "I'm fine Tosh- just a little slow on my feet today."

Ianto let the breath out silently, thankful for the sweet sincerity in Tosh's voice that had let the question pass without incident. Sticking his head out from behind the workstation, he saw Owen's eyes tracking Jack as he made a sharp turn, fingers pressed hard against his back as he took off towards the lower levels, and shook his head at Owen. _Leave him alone_, he mouthed silently as Jack disappeared through the doorway.

By the time Gwen arrived with lunch, Ianto was finding it difficult to heed his own advice, scolding himself for being ridiculous as he imagined that Jack had fallen or fainted on the narrow gantries. Owen obviously felt the same way, his voice falsely casual as he asked Gwen to page down that lunch had arrived.

"He's in the middle of running some tests on Janet- he said to go ahead without him." Gwen reported back. "Maybe we should wait. He shouldn't be skipping meals right now, should he?"

Owen shrugged. "He's almost full term, which is amazing- I didn't think he'd make it past 7 months. He should be doing or not doing whatever he feels like."

"Should we bring something down to him?"

Owen rolled his eyes. "You're on your own if you do. Jack's been about as approachable as Janet this week- I say we leave them to it."

Ianto nodded, picking up his fork. "I'll put some food away for him. Let's give him some space."

000

Distracted and uncomfortably full of pad thai, Ianto found himself unable to concentrate on the data analysis program that Tosh was trying to teach him to use. Excusing himself, he headed for the quiet isolation of his desk in the archives, giving the access hatch to the level three containment units and Janet's cell a wide berth as he passed. Spinning on his chair he reached for the documents on top of the tall pile of unsorted files beside his desk and nearly knocked down the whole lot in surprise when he noticed Jack sitting silently on the old leather couch jammed up against the opposite wall.

"Fuck!"

Jack didn't react. His eyes were closed and he was sitting deeply into the couch, legs crossed. The only movement that Ianto observed was the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.

"You scared me. What are you doing down here? Are you-"

Jack pointed a warning finger at him, cutting him off.

"Don't ask.' He said sternly. 'I came down here because I couldn't blink without someone squinting at me trying to figure out if I was having contractions. Don't make me find a different hiding spot- I just got comfortable."

"_Are_ you having contractions?"

Jack's eyes opened to glare at Ianto, who just shrugged.

"A few.' Jack said casually. 'Can I stay here while you work?"

"Of course." Ianto nodded and slowly spun his chair back around to his desk, opening the file.

Time passed slowly. Ianto did his best not to look up from his paperwork to stare at Jack as often as he would have liked to. The files that he was cataloguing and cross-referencing were case reports of alien involvement in the cold war and unlike the majority of the paper collection, they were fascinating.

As interesting as the reports were, nothing could quite live up to the unlikely event that might be gearing up just on the other side of the room. Hearing Jack shifting on the couch, Ianto put down his file and snuck a look over his shoulder.

Jack was in much the same position as he had been two hours before, one hand now stretched out to grip the battered leather armrest while the rest of his body relaxed, eyes still closed. His breathing was slow and measured and just loud enough for Ianto to catch the sound of his inhalations from across the room. He watched for a full minute before he saw the hand on the arm of the couch loosen its grip, relaxing to match the calm posture of the rest of Jack's body. The atmosphere in the room was heavy with concentration and Ianto hesitated, deciding whether he should interrupt the quiet stillness before he took the plunge, moving across the room and on to the cushion beside Jack, laying a hand on his shoulder.

"Alright?" he asked quietly.

He nodded, opening his eyes to look at Ianto. "Yeah, I'd almost forgotten how intense this was." He smiled and stretched, wiping a few beads of sweat off his forehead as he pulled Ianto closer.

"Your hands feel a little worried."

"Oh, sorry." he said, loosening his grip. "I am though. I'm probably almost hysterical, if you want the truth. This is the real thing, isn't it?"

"I think so."

They sat in silence for several minutes before Jack's breathing changed again, his hand tensing on Ianto's shoulder. Jack's eyes slipped shut again as the bells of the paging system chimed out of the dusty speaker in the corner of the room.

"Ianto? We're leaving early tonight. Are you all right down there?" Gwen's voice asked.

Disentangling himself from Jack, Ianto reached over the desk for the microphone on the paging substation.

"Yes. Fine.' he faltered, looking back at Jack. 'Could you ask Owen to stick around?"

"Yes…' Gwen's voice was equal parts suspicion and excitement. 'should I send him down?"

Jack shook his head at Ianto from across the room.

"No, just ask him to stay back for a bit. See you on Monday."

"See you then, Ianto… see you Jack." She said, guessing that Jack was in the room.

"See you Gwen. Have a good day off." Jack's voice was loud and reassuring from his position on the couch. There was a little pop over the system as Gwen released her mic button.

Ianto sighed.

"She knows, doesn't she?"

Jack smiled. "Oh, Gwen knows alright.' He said with affection, 'She thinks she knows everything, and most of the time she's right."

Unable to concentrate on work, Ianto sat back down on the couch next to Jack and watched him through several more contractions. Jack's face and body remained perfectly still, only the tension in his posture and the slight heaviness of his breathing reflecting the activity within his body.

After what seemed like hours, Jack dropped his head back against the couch and drew a sharp breath of pain, the muscles in his arms tensing as they braced against the leather. The hypnotising spell of Jack's even stillness broken, Ianto sat up quickly and leaned over to look at him.

"Should I get Owen down here?"

Jack opened his eyes and smiled weakly.

"No, just page him to tell him we're coming up? I think I need to walk - my back's starting to hurt."

Jack held out his arms and Ianto pulled him upright, one hand settling on the small of his back to steady him. The cotton of Jack's t-shirt was warm and damp with sweat against his hand. Looking down and seeing his polished black oxfords next to Jack's bear feet, Ianto realised that he was still buttoned into the three piece suit that he had worn to work that day. When they got upstairs he should probably ditch his coat and tie; it was likely to be a long night.

Jack pulled away to lean against the wall and Ianto felt a wave of fear watching as Jack gritted his teeth, trying to manage the pressure. The bulk of the baby on his frame looked huge, like it would break him apart if she grew even a fraction bigger. Jack obviously felt the same way, pressing against his hips like he was trying to keep them from popping out of their sockets.

"_You won't be getting the chance to crack my pelvis, little girl,_' Jack said through his teeth '_you are SO coming out tonight._

Ianto grimaced with sympathy as Jack bent forward with another contraction but felt relieved, knowing what Jack said was true. In a matter of hours the long stretch of worry and discomfort would be over.

They made their way out of the archives slowly, contractions halting their progress several times. Jack was leaning on Ianto heavily by the time they reached the main floor where Owen was waiting just inches inside the door. He took one look at Jack's sweaty face and ragged breathing and dove at him with an oxygen mask, holding it firmly in place as he guided him across the room.

"I can't believe you waited so long to come up.' He said, obviously annoyed. 'I don't want to lecture, but-"

"Good. Don't.' Jack said from beneath the mask, struggling away from Owen towards the couch.

"Exam table." Owen said, trying to steer him towards the bay.

Jack pushed the mask away. "Not doing this on an autopsy table."

He paused.

"I need to sit down now."

Owen let go of Jack's arm, and he sank down onto his knees in front of the couch, his forearms resting on the cushions with his head ducked between them.

"Exam table. Let's go." Owen repeated when the bunched muscles in Jack's shoulders released their tension.

"No!" Jack panted, gasping the word out. He coughed, trying to get more air into his lungs and Owen pressed the mask back up to his face.

"Okay, okay. I'll bring the scanner up here." He said, passing the mask to Ianto and heading down the stairs to the lab. "Try not to mess up the couch!" he called over his shoulder.

Owen returned with his kit and several medical drapes to cover the floor "we don't know what been on it" he said.

Ianto quickly grabbed at the sheets, 'Yes we do. Weevil drool, Pteranodon shit, blowfish brains…" He listed, spreading the sheets out beneath them. The green sheets created a strange medical oasis around them within the industrialised atmosphere of the hub and Ianto shivered, suddenly displaced among familiar surroundings.

Owen examined Jack, scanning and taking temperature readings before he sighed with resignation.

"Okay, trousers off. Let's see what's going on."

Jack, never shy, pushed his trousers down over his hips and Ianto tugged them the rest of the way down, untangling the fabric from Jack's feet. The freedom from constriction felt good, and Jack quickly whipped his shirt off as well.

Owen raised his eyebrows, wordlessly offering up one of the medical drapes, which Jack promptly tossed aside, before reluctantly pushing Jack's knees apart. Owen grimaced as his hand disappeared between Jack's legs.

"This is so weird." He said under his breath.

Ianto coughed pointedly.

"And kind of amazing." Owen added, "Medically speaking."

Jack's groan of disagreement turned into a grunt of pain as he screwed his eyes shut and turned his head away from Owen.

"Meds?" Owen asked.

Jack shook his head against the couch upholstery, burying his face away from any further attempts at communication, resurfacing after the wave of pressure receded.

"Sure you don't want to go down the bay? At least you wouldn't be on the floor there… and in case there was any doubt in your mind, this is definitely happening tonight."

Jack ignored him. "Can I have some water?"

"Yes." Owen sighed as he stood up.

"Take your time." Jack told him.

When Owen's footsteps were no longer audible, Jack reached out to grab Ianto's shoulder. Thinking that another contraction had hit, Ianto gritted his teeth in sympathy and was surprised to see Jack's eyes open and focused on him.

"You don't have to be here for this if you don't want to." Jack spoke quickly.

"Why…" Ianto couldn't complete his question, suddenly worried. He hadn't thought it would be possible to feel more out of place or uncertain than he had been feeling in the last hour, but Jack's words had managed it.

"I mean,' Jack's voice became strained, betraying his pain as his muscles tensed, 'if you don't want to see this… see me like this… it's okay."

Ianto looked at Jack, blinking, trying to bring the scene into focus. Jack's hairline was sweaty and his face looked drawn with the effort of controlling his body. He was full of energy that radiated off his whole body in waves that Ianto could feel like static in the air. He wanted to help, but instead he felt helpless.

"I don't want to leave." He said with as much certainty in his voice as he could summon. He reached out a hand to touch Jack, but it hovered in the air, not quite making contact.

Jack began to say something, but the words dissolved, the controlled expression threatening to slip off his face.

"Well then, _carpe diem_ please." he said between breaths.

The words, even said jokingly, were like a flash bulb ignited in Ianto's brain, exposing everything for an instant of perfect clarity.

He moved, erasing the distance between them as quickly and completely as he could, slipping behind Jack and wrapping his arms around his shoulders and waist, pulling him tightly up against his chest and kissing the sweat on the back of Jack's neck.

"Is this okay?" he asked.

Jack's body sank back against him and Ianto felt him relax, the removal of space breaking down the polite barrier between them.

"Talk to me?"

"About what?" Ianto asked, feeling his brain empty of all potential topics of conversation.

"Anything. Tell me about your family." He prompted.

"Well, my father was a tailor, like you know.' Ianto began. Seeing Jack nod and close his eyes, he continued. 'When I was younger I kind of rebelled- ripped jeans, flannel shirts… it was the nineties after all. Dad used to call me 'a walking sartorial disaster'…"

He spoke quietly in Jack's ear, a long string of anecdotes and stories that Jack only occasionally reacted to, the words creating a monotone underscore to the constant sound of Jack's laboured breathing. He rubbed hard at Jack's back and pressed against his hips again and again, making him groan. The sounds and actions repeated and repeated. The contractions were now so close together that they overlapped, and Ianto wondered if time had frozen around them both.

He was thinking that they might go on forever this way when Jack suddenly sat up and grabbed at his knees.

The primal noise that followed summoned Owen instantly. This time there was no hesitation and Owen examined Jack quickly, nodding at Ianto as he held the oxygen mask back up to Jack's face. Jack tolerated the mask for two deep breaths before knocking it away, teeth bared as he pushed.

"FUCK." Jack forced the word out like it was a piece of intelligence that must be communicated immediately and against any odds.

"Keep it up." Owen said calmly. 'You can do this."

Jack struggled against Ianto, shifting the angle of his pelvis, trying to open as much as he could. It was like holding on to a huge electrical generator, Ianto thought dimly, feeling Jack's fingers digging into his arm.

Owen waited and watched through several more contractions, frowning when little progress was made.

"Get up Jack.' He said. 'You need gravity on your side."

Getting no response, he pulled at Jack's arm. "C'mon. Up you come."

"I'm going to throw up." The pain was like a large animal thrashing and pulling against a rope that he barely had a hold on. Jack's grip faltered, control sliding through his fingers as he began to hyperventilate.

Owen let go of him immediately

"Go for it." He said lightly, but looked worried. A heavy sweat had broken out over Jack's skin and his face was blotchy.

"I'm going to set up intravenous fluids- just dextrose water, okay?"

The IV set up, Owen reached for his scanner.

"Babies' heart rate's good, but we need to get the pain under control. You're okay. Breath normally, don't hold your breath. That's right…"

Owen looked at Ianto, glancing at his watch and then down to the floor.

Ianto followed Owen's gaze to the instrument tray beside him, to the neat row of surgical steel that lay inside and felt his hands grow cold with adrenalin. What time was it, Ianto thought. How long had they been here? The windowless hub revealed no clues, and Ianto resisted the urge to pull his hand out of Jack's grip to look at his watch, not sure if he wanted to know. He watched as Owen turned away from the tray, pressing a wet towel to Jack's face and neck with his reassuringly calm doctor's touch and Ianto drew a deep breath of relief. It might still come to that, he thought, resisting a second look at the tray full of scalpels, but not yet.

Owen offered pain relief again, this time in the form of nitrous oxide, in the same level voice that betrayed no hint of concern and Jack shook his head no, his wet hair catching against the fabric of Ianto's shirt.

"You're crazy. I'd give anything to be high right now." Ianto whispered in his ear and smiled when he heard Jack laugh.

_Not yet_.

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_Thanks for reading! Next chapter on the way..._


	16. Chapter 16

**Bluebirds Chapter 16  
**Warning: graphic

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Somewhere between the repetitive cycle of encouraging words and brutal prodding of gloved fingers Jack had lost track of the world around him, blinded by internal sensation and his own closed eyelids.

It hurt. Not like the hot burn of a bullet or the dull crushing of a broken bone, although those sensations were definitely accounted for. It hurt like dying, or more accurately Jack thought, it didn't hurt _right_. He could feel the pain tugging at him from far away, the agony and nausea growing more and more distant. Something twisted and broke inside him and Jack gasped, soaring with the rapid change of equilibrium that followed, like a plane lifting off a runway.

_Keep your tray tables locked and your chairs in an upright position. _The sensation was as familiar as any script learned off by heart, repeated so often that it had lost all meaning and impact. Another beginning of another end.

_Flight time will be approximately 20 minutes unless delayed by torture, exsanguination or life sucking demons. _

Death wasn't complicated. With the conditioning of 150 years of life without the permanence of death, Jack had found the experience to be no more than a lonely process of letting go, a dull feeling of failure coupled with a shameful gratitude for the temporary relief of responsibility.

This time was different. This time he wasn't alone. Hundred of miles below him, under the cloudbank of pain and exhaustion his daughter was trapped inside his failing body.

For the first time in decades Jack fought against the decline, struggling to reconnect the fading signals between his brain and body, to feel his limbs, to see, to hear something other than his own heartbeat.

_Cephalo-pelvic disproportion, shoulder dystocia, intrapartum asphyxia. _Jack couldn't tell if someone was speaking the words or if he was only thinking them. Panicking, he forced himself back.

Pain greeted him as he landed in his body, a ringing explosion of white noise as deafening as any war zone.

_Get the scalpel. _Jack heard his own voice desperate and strangled, the sound of someone yelling in their sleep.

_I'm dying. Save her. Get her out._

He opened his eyes and saw Owen in front of him, the scalpel chiming a metallic note against the instrument tray as he flung it aside, clearly having been moments away from using it.

"Take a breath Jack.' Owen was rubbing at his arms and legs, urging him forward, away from unconsciousness. 'Do this."

Frustration overcame panic as his body locked in spasm. No he wasn't, couldn't do this. He was going to die and take his daughter with him and _what about those instructions was unclear?! _He wanted to scream but breathed instead.

"She's stable and you still have time. Push as hard as you can. Push now."

Jack swore as the pain shifted deeper, a balloon of agony inflating inside him until his pelvis turned inside out and his mind scrambled and clawed against the confines of his body until suddenly he didn't have one. No body, no mind, only a surging momentum hurtling him faster and faster towards an end point he could no longer imagine.

A popping, slithering sensation and the pain was gone.

He felt a wet rubbery weight placed on his chest and reached up blindly to the warm crumpled shape of his daughter there, inhaling, searching for the scent of her skin and breath beneath the smell of blood. He opened his eyes to look at her but his vision was hazy. It didn't matter, he knew she was perfect. Their daughter, born right on top of the rift, as impossible and improbable as anything that had ever fallen through it.

Owen was swearing, _Haemorrhaging_ he heard him say, and nodded, dizzy and cold. It didn't matter he thought again, feeling the tiny regular rise and fall of her breath against his chest. Outside of him at last, she was safe.

"Don't." He said, hearing the frantic noise of Owen prepping syringes and IV bags. The noise stopped and Jack felt him pull the blanket that covered the baby a little higher over her head as he sat down next to them, quiet and waiting.

Ianto's arms were around him, his body warm and solid behind him and Jack let go, resting his head against Ianto's shoulder. He was dying, but in less than an hour he would be counting fingers and toes and teasing Ianto that they should name their daughter Janet or Myfanwy. Soon they would be lying in bed together, just watching her, deciding whose nose she had and how tall she would be and who would change the first nappy. Ianto would pick her up and she would look loved and protected nestled against his rolled up shirtsleeves as Ianto bent down to kiss him and promise breakfast and whisper _sleep_.

A cool hand lay on his forehead, the hard glass rim of a cup against his lips and he drank, feeling the water rush down inside him. A shadow crossed over him and he blinked, making out a strange face in the gloom of his dying vision. He couldn't recognize the features of the man, but something about him was strikingly familiar and Jack knew with certainty who it must be.

"No." He said. "Please don't."

He tried to lift his arms, tried to tighten his hold on his daughter but his hands were cold and heavy as her weight disappeared from his chest.

"I'm sorry Jack.' He heard the man above him say as his heart stopped beating. 'I'm so sorry."

000

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0

0

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000

The world moved in an impossible way, skipping like a jump cut in a piece of film. Ianto swallowed, tasting gun powder and something sweet, like burnt sugar. Like rift dust. _Like Retcon_, he realised. His body felt heavy, pinned down by a cold weight on his chest. _Open your eyes_ he told himself, but they were heavy too. Where was he? What had he been doing? _Open your eyes_ he thought again _open your eyes open your eyes…_

The weight on his chest jerked, floundering against him with a loud and all too recognisable gasp. His eyes flew open to see Jack revive in his arms, coughing and convulsing against his chest. They were on the main level of the hub on the floor between the old couch and the cog door and they were sitting in blood- a copper lake soaked into crumpled medical drapes, staining clothes and skin. Jack was completely naked, blood smeared and incoherent. Over his shaking body Ianto saw Owen push himself off the floor, staring at the blood that coated his gloved hands before he looked up sharply.

"Retcon." He coughed, spitting a mouthful of drug laced saliva onto the floor.

Ianto nodded, trying to push Jack upright.

"What do you remember?" Owen asked quickly, searching for the source of the blood.

"Nothing.' Ianto said, completely disoriented. He strained to think. Filing. The archives. Something about CCTV footage on a USB. 'Nothing." He repeated.

"Jack.' Owen clamped his hands to Jack's face, holding his head still as he shook. 'Can you hear me?"

Jack looked at him, eyes unfocused.

"Retcon.' Owen said slowly. 'Ianto and I have been dosed. Have you? Do you remember anything?"

Jack opened his mouth. Leaning out of Ianto's grasp, he vomited.

Swearing, Owen grabbed at Jack's shoulders, guiding him down off Ianto and on to his side.

"I can't hear any alarms- rift or security." Ianto said.

Owen nodded and swore again.

"Where are Gwen and Toshiko?"

Ianto rolled off the floor and dove for the main console, pulling his phone from his pocket as he ran.

"Gwen. Where are you?" he scanned the hub security system as he spoke.

"In bed. What's wrong?" Gwen's voice was muddled with sleep.

"I'm at the hub with Jack and Owen. We've been Retconned. The system isn't showing any alarms but we've all lost time. Jack's been injured… "

Ianto looked over his shoulder to see Owen dragging Jack down towards the med bay, struggling under his weight. Gwen was repeating something in his ear.

"Ianto? Ianto! Is he okay?"

"Something killed him. It looks alien- some kind of poison or implant. He's awake, but…"

"I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Find Tosh. Bring her in."

* * *

_Thanks for reading. Next chapter is on the way..._


	17. Chapter 17

**Bluebirds Chapter 17**

* * *

The system lagged as Ianto entered his ID, leaving him to stare at his reflection in the dark background of the frozen login screen. The watery unease he was feeling showed on his face, and he felt a moment of irritation as he tried and failed to rearrange his features into the cool mask of a Torchwood Operative.

Tapping impatiently on the keyboard, he bit his lip as he listening for Jack's voice reprimanded himself for being ridiculous.

Jack would be alright. Jack was _always_ alright. He'd seen him take a bullet to the head and stand up and give orders less than 5 minutes later. There was no reason that this time would be different. He tried to think ahead, planning the systematic security sweep he would conduct when Gwen and Tosh arrived. He would get Tosh searching on the computer system immediately, running as many scans of the security system as possible while he and Gwen did a manual sweep of the tunnels. Gwen had the access code for the heavy weapons container, where they kept everything with stopping power. When she arrived he would ask her to-

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the deep tissue scanner's start up sequence down in the med bay. He strained his ears again, listening, but heard nothing above the quiet bleeps of the scanner.

_Ridiculous_, he thought again, unsettled by the taste of fear in the back of this throat.

Jack was his boss, and their physical relationship had been nothing more than an accident; an unplanned but key element in his desperate plan to keep Lisa hidden within Torchwood. He hadn't expected the force of Jack's magnetism to pull him in so completely, let alone that whatever developed between them would hold them together even after Lisa's death. When Jack casually dropped 'dinner and a movie' into the equation directly following the news of Gwen's engagement, Ianto had known he was being used as a distraction. Still raw from Lisa's death he had accepted readily, knowing that Jack's particular brand of distraction would be mutually beneficial.

Something had changed, Ianto realised as he stood frozen in front of the computer, but when or how he didn't know. Every impulse was telling him to abandon the console, to run down to Jack and hold him close and not let go until Jack snapped out of it and shook him off like an annoying puppy. _Or held him back._

_Get a fucking grip. _Ianto told himself, swearing at the console and jamming his finger against the enter key.

The screen sprang to life, displaying no alarms in the security log. Bringing up the CCTV footage he scrubbed across the last hour. The records showed the central hub empty, then the frame jumped and there they were, the three of them on the ground in front of the couch, the blood as dark as tar in the black and white image. He rewound further, hitting more black screen and finally a series of ENTRY DELETED notifications. The log was empty- wiped.

Finally abandoning the console, he sprinted for the gun locker and then down the stairs to where Owen had Jack on the table, still dazed and semi conscious. He dropped a pistol onto the equipment tray next to Owen and shoved another into the waist band of his trousers.

"Gwen and Tosh are on their way. No obvious security breach and nothing on the CCTV. One second there's nothing, and then we appear. What's on the scan?"

Owen didn't look up, his eyes glued to the monitor.

"No life forms, but there's a piece of tech or some kind of organic grafting. Some kind of implant."

Jack lifted his head off the table, pale and sweating.

Owen paused in his examination to stare at them.

"Do you know what this is?' He asked, pushing Jack down. 'It looks like a uterus." He continued the examination, palpitating Jack's skin.

"It almost looks…' Owen trailed off, squinting at the scan results. '_post-partem_."

Jack struggled, trying to roll off the table but Owen grabbed his hand, pushing it down and pressing it into his skin.

"Feel that? You're not going anywhere until we find out what the hell that is."

Owen stared at Jack, holding his hand firmly against the inflamed hardness under his skin.

Jack didn't move or speak, but Ianto felt the charge of panic like an electrical current arcing from Jack's body into his own. He locked his knees against the rush of fear and reached out, holding Jack against him.

Owen pressed his hands into Jack's abdomen again, frantically palpitating what was quickly disappearing as Jack's body repaired itself.

Jack thrashed at the touch, twisting in Ianto's arms.

"Definitely.' Owen said, looking back up at them both. 'All the signs of delivery of _something_ are there… _Were_ there' He corrected, looking back down at the scanner. 'It's disappearing as fast as I can track it."

Jack's breath blew hot and fast against Ianto like the heartbeat of a trapped animal burrowed against his chest. The silent breaths becoming vocal as Owen continued, transforming into desperate gasps.

Owen reached lower and Ianto felt Jack jerk in response, his breath catching in a sound that was almost a sob.

"Stop!" Ianto shouted at Owen, disentangling himself from Jack enough to shove the doctor away. Owen shoved him back and Ianto raised his fist in warning.

"Get away from him."

Owen starred at him like he was crazy.

"Are you worried about _consent?_ This is a level one security breech. I'm not getting killed or infested with some kind of alien parasite because Jack's ankle biting lapdog won't let me near him.' Owen shouldered him aside. 'Get out of my way." He said, ripping open the medi-seal on a field scalpel.

Ianto launched himself at Owen.

"Knock it off!" Jack yelled, struggling up on to his elbows as the siren on the cog door sounded. All three men tensed.

Owen dropped the scalpel, trading it for his pistol as he ran up the stairs.

"It's Gwen and Tosh." He shouted from above.

"Check the hub for alien presence. Start scanning the security footage." Jack yelled again, his voice hoarse but commanding.

Relieved by the coherence of Jack's sudden orders, Ianto pulled him upright on the table where he swayed, white around the eyes.

Letting go of Jack long enough to grab a basin from the workbench, he offered it quickly and subtly, feeling déjà vu descend as Jack's body stuttered with retching.

Jack swallowed hard, looking up as Owen appeared on the stairs ripping open the plastic on a foil emergency blanket with his teeth as he ran.

Light bounced and glinted off the metallic membrane as he unfolded the blanket, bundling Jack's heavy body inside, his eyes slipping shut against the glare.

"Jack!" Owen said loudly, shaking him.

Jack's eyes opened slowly, groaning as he spat a mouthful of watery saliva into the bowl.

"Go see if Tosh and Gwen found anything."

Ianto turned towards the stairs but was pulled back by Jack's hand, tight on his wrist.

Owen hesitated but nodded defeat, leaving them alone.

Ianto waited, expecting information or an order but Jack sat still, his eyes wide and starring. Surrounded by awkward silence, Ianto covered Jack's hand, still clamped tight around his wrist with his own. Jack squinted his eyes shut, breathing heavily.

"You don't remember anything?" Jack asked, voice strained.

Ianto winced, searching for fragments of information in the bruised emptiness of his memory.

"No. Do you?"

Jack turned his head away, his mouth tight.

"I need a shower."

* * *

_Hi readers. I thought I would put a little note here to apologise. I know that cliffhangers are frustrating, and I know I'm still leaving you hanging. I'm taking a little time with this because I want it to be as clear and readable as I can make it and I want to tell you that I really appreciate your continued interest and patience. A big thank you to the readers who have taken the time to review- it's such a pleasure to hear what you think._

_More to come as soon as possible! Thanks again._


	18. Chapter 18

_Warning: Spoilers for TW Season 1_

* * *

**Bluebirds Chapter 18**

Ianto turned in circles trying to find something to do as he waited, listened to the underwater sounds of the shower running from behind the thin door.

Jack had insisted on showering in the bunker rather than in the more accessible communal showers and Ianto had known better than to try to argue. Sluggish but surprisingly mobile, Jack made his way down to the bunker with less trouble than Ianto anticipated but once he was in the shower cubical he leaned against the tiles, still wrapped in the emergency blanket. When he reached in to turn on the water, Jack's fingers clutched at him so numbly that Ianto couldn't tell if he was being pulled closer or pushed away.

He shivered, feeling the same unease he always did when Jack was out of action, the safety net of his protection temporarily withdrawn. Turning on the water as hot as he dared he withdrew his arms from Jack, needing him to be okay.

With nothing to do now but wait, Ianto picked up a pair of Jack's trousers from the end of the bed and shook them out to see if they were clean. Something about the shape looked wrong to him. He smoothed the blue cotton and turned the waistband inside out, locating a neat row of hand stitching on a let-out seam. Squinting in the bad light he held the fabric closer, blinking as he recognised the tiny evenly spaced stitches as his own work. The same neat identical stitching he had learned as a child, practiced on scraps of wool and calico underneath the work table, his father's voice drifting down among the fabric dust and orphaned threads. _When in doubt rip it out, but make do and mend, son._

It wasn't terribly unusual to find objects that couldn't be accounted for at Torchwood, and considering the hefty dose of Retcon, the trousers were probably only the first of many seemingly mundane discoveries over the next few weeks. The new seam allowances certainly backed up Owen's convictions that Jack had been impregnated with something, not only backed them up, but added to them. Whatever process had taken place, it had been gradual enough to allow for multiple rounds of tailoring. Care had been taken, Ianto thought, running his fingers down the stitching; he didn't break out his tailoring skills very often.

He folded the trousers quickly, his mind whirling with possibilities that he wasn't ready to process. Continuing to search, he found trousers with a true 34 inch waistband and handed them to Jack when he emerged from the shower. Standing in front of Ianto, towel ruffled and pink with returning blood volume, Jack looked like their Captain again, imposing and totally unreadable.

"How are you feeling Sir?" He asked, reaching automatically for Jack's towel. Their knuckles brushed in the exchange, triggering an intense compounded memory of hundreds of items passed to one another over the years. Coats and side arms, files and artefacts, painkillers and hot cups of coffee all passing between them, piling up and collapsing in a single moment; a shared history between employer and employee tempered with the hesitant intimacy of their undefined relationship.

"Jack?"

* * *

000

* * *

"So whatever happened, it happened over 17 hours of time that we all can't remember." Gwen stood at the end of the table still dressed in the old concert t-shirt she had worn to bed.

Tosh nodded. "The log displays deleted entries for the last 7 months, but I don't remember anything significant happening across that time period. If all of you were Retconned at the hub, then Gwen and I must have been dosed at some point after we left."

Jack didn't comment. Clean and combed he sat stonily in his chair with his feet up on the table, falsely casual under the armour of his greatcoat.

With an air of concern even more poorly disguised than Jack's distress, Owen toyed with the remote for the heating system, slowly increasing the temperature each time Jack pulled his coat tighter across his chest.

"What's the last entry on the CCTV log before tonight?" Ianto asked.

Tosh blushed and clicked her mouse.

The team watched in silence as footage of Gwen and Owen in the med bay played on the large screen above the table. They were pressed together with the tightness of lovers, Owen's hands diving into the waistband of Gwen's jeans as he lifted her up onto the equipment bench.

Gwen leaned over and pressed Tosh's laptop shut, cutting the feed just as the scanner and a heavy tray of equipment crashed to the floor on the screen.

Owen shrugged. "Busted."

"Can we see the log from tonight again?" Gwen asked loudly, ignoring him.

Tosh clicked open her laptop again, and the team stared at the screen in silence as they watched Jack, Owen and Ianto appear out of nowhere. Even in the grainy low res footage, Jack's naked body was clearly visible, as was Owen lying on the floor between his knees.

Ianto coughed into his coffee cup.

"As strange as the 'birth' hypothesis may be, I'm actually incredibly uncomfortable with some of the alternatives."

"You're not the only one…' Owen said grimly, 'We've established that Jack delivered _something_ some time in the last 4 hours. No Jack, we have.' Owen insisted, interpreting Jack's silence as denial. 'Your increased healing rate is covering up the evidence, but I know what I saw. We just have to figure out how, and to what, and who Retconned us past the point of dementia. I'll be lucky if I can remember my own name."

"Owen." Tosh said.

"What?"

"Your name is Owen. Owen Harper, Torchwood officer 565-"

"Yes- thank you Tosh…" He said, rolling his eyes at her.

"Sorry. Just in case…" Tosh said quietly, blushing again.

Gwen sighed. "Don't be such a prat Owen."

"What?" Owen asked innocently.

"_What?"_ Gwen mimicked back.

Ianto dropped the log printouts he was holding and pinched the bridge of his nose against the throbbing headache that was developing behind his eyes.

"Could we maybe get back on topic?"

Jack stood up. "I want you to drop this."

Owen nodded. "You haven't recovered. We'll keep going and report once you've slept."

"No.' Jack said firmly. 'I don't want any of you spending any more time on this. All our body scans are clean and there's no alien presence in the hub. We're safe. I want a hard copy of the most recent footage left on my desk- when that's done you can erase the file. Restart the CCTV records log when you come back in on Tuesday- I don't want to see any of you here until then."

A chorus of protests broke out around the table.

"You're not serious?' Gwen asked. 'We don't know anything yet."

"I'm serious."

Owen stood.

"I want another scan from you first. And a couple of deep tissue samples for processing."

"Listen to me.' Jack said as he sank back down into his chair, his voice quiet and dangerous. 'No more scans. No investigation and no research. You are all free to make enquiries about the consequences the missing time may have made to your personal lives, but when it comes to me or this facility I want you to consider the subject off limits. Anyone who disagrees can start looking for a new job, otherwise I'll see you all on Tuesday morning."

The team sat in stunned silence.

"Are you sure Jack?" Gwen asked gently.

She moved to Jack, laying a hand on his face. He leaned into her touch for a moment before twisting away from her.

"Tuesday morning." He repeated.

No one moved.

"Leave." Jack shouted.

Gwen jumped. Gathering her things, she was the first to leave the room, Tosh and Owen filing along behind her. Ianto began to clear the table, quickly gathering up half finished mugs of coffee as Jack turned towards the door.

"Are you coming?" He asked.

Ianto straightened in surprise.

"Yes. Yep." He said, his eyes fixed on Jack's tense shoulders as he followed him down to the med bay.

* * *

000

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_Thanks for reading! More soon..._


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